


The problem with clichés is that sometimes they're true

by SpeccysCat (LazuliAlekto)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Disaster Gay Keith, Disaster gay Shiro, Drunken Flirting, Drunken Shenanigans, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining Keith (Voltron), Pining Shiro (Voltron), Rimming, S7 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-28
Updated: 2018-11-08
Packaged: 2019-07-18 15:25:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 20,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16121333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LazuliAlekto/pseuds/SpeccysCat
Summary: “Keef!” Shiro slurred, “Keef, KEEF!”Keith blinked slowly assessing his friend with an expert eye.  What he found was…weird to say the least.  Shiro was propped up on one elbow, his Altean hand waving at him enthusiastically, white lock of hair flopping on his forehead with every motion, strong muscled legs swinging under his stool like a child’s.  His face was flushed to the point that the scar across his nose was hardly visible, grey eyes wide and a sloppy smile on his face.Judging by the evidence and the empty glass in front of him, Keith was sure Shiro was drunk.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> so...this is my first Voltron fic, have been very invested in another ship, but Sheith has me a little swoony.  
> This is the result...  
> Will see how it goes.

 

  “Keef!” Shiro slurred, “Keef, _KEEF!_ ”

  Keith blinked slowly assessing his friend with an expert eye.  What he found was…weird to say the least.  Shiro was propped up on one elbow, his Altean hand waving at him enthusiastically, white lock of hair flopping on his forehead with every motion, strong muscled legs swinging under his stool like a child’s.  His face was flushed to the point that the scar across his nose was hardly visible, grey eyes wide and a sloppy smile on his face.

  Judging by the evidence and the empty glass in front of him, Keith was sure Shiro was drunk.

  But that seemed…wrong.  Shiro wasn’t one for drinking much, in fact Keith could only remember one other occasion that he’d ever seen the big man drink.  After Adam had issued his ultimatum.  So, years before…everything else.

  For Shiro to be drinking to excess now was disconcerting, despite the fact Shiro seemed to be exuberantly happy.

  And he was still waving Keith over, warmth radiating from him as he smiled.

  Keith really liked that smile.  No, adored that smile.  His heart clenched in his chest as he made his way over to Shiro through the press of bodies around him.  It took him a bit to dodge around everyone else in the bar, weaving, drawn to his friend as he always was.  He hardly even registered that Matt Holt and James Griffin sat with Shiro, his eyes locked on his target.  It wasn’t something he even questioned anymore, he would always look for Shiro and see only him whenever he was within his orbit.

  “Hey,” Keith greeted as he reached the table where the three men sat.

  He received a laughing hello from Matt and a grudging hi from James.  Not all that surprising, Matt and Keith were on pretty friendly terms, but James was another matter.  Mutual respect for their roles in saving earth and their respective skills, but little else.

  What did surprise him was the way Shiro patted the empty stool beside him, indicating Keith should take it, then the screech of the stools feet as Shiro tugged it closer to him with Keith in tow.

  “Hey, look, Keefs here,” Shiro announced in his sloppy drunken tone.

  Matt rolled his eyes, shooting Keith an indulgent smirk, “yeah, I can see that.”

  James simply ignored the whole ridiculous situation, making a show of checking his phone and excusing himself.

  Keith hardly noticed him leaving.

  He was far too occupied watching Shiro, watching the way his lips formed and quirked into another heartbreakingly beautifully soft smile.  The way his dark grey eyes, glaze from drink, still twinkled as he laughed at something Matt said.  Keith hadn’t even heard the comment.

  He did eventually take another look around the room, conscious of the fact he was staring at Shiro just a little too much, frown plastering his face as he saw several pairs of appreciative eyes looking in the Captain’s direction, openly appraising his figure.  Shiro dressed casually in a pair of thigh hugging jeans and a tight t-shirt that was riding up to expose a slip of flesh at the small of his back, the short sleeves melding to the bicep of his real arm and showing off his broad shoulders.  He was catching attention that he was totally unaware of.

  He always did.

  He always had Keith’s attention too.

  “Lemme buy you a drink,” Shiro near shouted in his ear over the noise of the celebrating patrons around them.

  Keith glanced at Matt, who was shaking his head in resignation.

  “Yeah, alright, just a beer,” Keith answered and Shiro’s face lit up brighter than a dawn, waving at someone near the bar and ordering Keith a drink.  Once it arrived Keith nursed it, sipping slowly, not interested in getting drunk.

  Shiro slung his real arm around Keith’s shoulders, leaning into him, “we did good, Keef,” he giggled.  “So happy you’re ok.”

  “How long has he been drinking?” Keith asked Matt, trying to cover the blush staining his cheeks by taking another sip of his beer.

  Matt shook his head ruefully, “too long, I think.  I found him here an hour or so ago.  He didn’t want to leave, so I thought I’d stay with him, he’s not exactly capable of making good decisions right now.”

  Keith grimaced at that, “yeah, I can tell.  He’s not a drinker.”

  “No, he’s not,” Matt agreed.  “He’s been hit on more times than I care to count.”

  Keith choked, “what?”

  Matt rolled his eyes, “the women aren’t an issue, he’s not even remotely interested, but the guys…I didn’t think he’d want to wake up in someone’s bed, you know, a trophy fuck.”

  “Uhh,” Keith said, uselessly, trying not to lean into Shiro where he was hanging off him.

  “Sure they’re only interested in banging the Captain of the Atlas.”

  Keith glowered, meeting the eyes of a few of the admirers with a far more proprietary stare this time.

  “Keith,” Shiro whispered in his ear, pronouncing his name carefully, breath warm over Keith’s skin making a shiver travel up and down his spine.  “So glad you’re here.”

  “I am too, Shiro,” Keith answered him.  “You’re a bit drunk.”

  Shiro nodded, hair flopping on his forehead again, he waved his Altean prosthetic around to indicate the room at large, “s…so many people wanna buy me drinks.  Couldn’t say no.”  He nodded again, then frowned turning it into a shake of his head.  “That’d be rude.”

  Matt huffed out a laugh, leaning forward, “you called one a bakayarou, Shiro.”

  Shiro’s eyes went comically wide, slapping his mechanical hand over his mouth hard enough that Keith winced.

  “Oh no,” Shiro moaned.

  “What does it mean?” Keith asked.  He knew a few words in Japanese, but that was a new one.

  “Asshole,” Matt chuckled, amused as Shiro dropped his head to the sticky table with a thud.

  Keith snorted out a laugh, “seriously, this guy called someone an asshole?” he asked, blinking at Shiro as he shook his head in disbelief.  Shiro, the nicest, sweetest man in the fucking universe called someone an asshole?

  Matt nodded, barely containing his grin, “the guy had no clue what it meant, thought it sounded sexy apparently.”

  “’M not sexy,” Shiro mumbled into the tabletop.

  Keith had to bite his lip to stop contradicting that.

  And avert his gaze so he didn’t see Matt watching him carefully.

  Shiro hiccupped drawing Keith’s attention back to him.  Matt winced and grabbed at the full glass of whatever it was that Shiro had ordered for himself along with Keith’s beer.

  “He’s had enough,” Matt murmured to Keith.  “Do you think you can get him back to base, I wanna check on Katie.”  Keith stifled a laugh at Matt _still_ wanting to check on his sister despite the fact she was a Paladin and very much capable of taking care of herself, thank you very fucking much.

  “Yeah, I can do that,” Keith answered, patting Shiro’s back gently.  “C’mon big guy, gonna take you home.”

  Shiro groaned, lifting his head, blinking owlishly and trying to focus on Keith’s face.

  “You’re here,” Shiro announced, sitting up and wrapping his arm around Keith’s shoulders again.

  “Uhh, yeah, I’m here to take you home,” Keith explained to him carefully.

  “You are?”  A huge smile bloomed on his face, “I like the sound of that.”

  Keith panicked, shooting Matt a quick look.  That had sounded almost…No, nope, Shiro definitely didn’t mean it like _that_ surely.

  Matt shrugged and pushed away from the table, “do you need help getting him outside?” he asked, eyeing Shiro as he leaned languidly against Keith.  “Looks like he’s gonna be dead weight.”

  Keith considered that for a moment, Shiro was pretty heavy.  The man was all muscle.

  “Yeah, just to the door, should be able to wrangle him to the truck.”

  “Right, hey Shiro, come on, let’s go buddy,” Matt sing-songed, lifting from one side as Keith took the other and together they manhandled Shiro through the press of bodies.  It was slow going and awkward, Shiro leaning heavily on them both, smiling goofily as he was hailed left and right.

  Shiro swayed as the cool night air hit him, clinging to Keith for balance.

  Keith waved Matt off and tugged a stumbling, weaving Shiro to where he’d parked the Garrison issued truck.  It was easier getting him into the seat than Keith had thought, the Captain pliant and co-operative as Keith coaxed him in.  He rolled his eyes in amusement when Shiro promptly leaned his head back and closed his eyes, a quiet snore echoing in the cab of the truck as Keith started it and pulled out.

  Getting Shiro to his quarters, and consequently dropping him onto the bed was an exercise in restraint for Keith that tested him to his limits.

  Drunk, sleepy Shiro was a touch handsy.

  Keith had no clue what to do with that information.

  On one hand, it sent his brain chasing thoughts that he didn’t want to linger on, well, at least not at this present time – it would possibly lead to something he would remember guiltily and Shiro most likely not at all given how drunk he was.

  On the other hand he wanted to send the information through a mental shredder.  It wasn’t something he should be privy to.  It wasn’t his right to know something like that.  No matter how much he wanted to indulge.

  He pulled Shiro’s boots off as the man in question laid back lazily on the bed, blinking up at Keith through the lock of silvered hair that was falling into his eyes.  Once the heavy boots were deposited beside the bed Keith worried at his lip, considering whether to help Shiro out of the rest of his clothes, then quickly decided it was a step way too far over a line he’d drawn a long time ago.

  The problem with stepping back was that Keith got an eyeful of Takashi Shirogane in all his buff, drunkenly smiling glory.  It’s at that point that Keith distantly realises that clichés might sometimes be trite and overused, but the fact remains that sometimes they are simply, irrevocably true.

  Shiro is without a doubt, stunningly beautiful in a way that makes his heart want to thump out of his chest and flop on the floor in defeat.  He wants to lay at Shiros’ feet and worship the very ground he walks on.  He wants, he wants, he _wants_ with a ferocity that leaves him gaping at the beauty on the bed, laid out like a sinful centrefold despite the fact he is still dressed and covered, because somehow that’s a view that is more arousing.  It lets him imagine what’s underneath – which Keith is uncomfortably aware of due to them sharing a training room on the Castle of Lions that included showers.  He likes Shiro like this because it lets him imagine peeling his jeans off, ripping his shirt off to gawk at the prize underneath.

  Shiro twists onto his side, propping his head on one hand and sweeping his prosthetic over the bed beside him in what looks like an invitation, the pink tip of his tongue sliding over his bottom lip in a debauched display that Keith responds to on several levels.

  One being his dick twitching in his own jeans, now uncomfortably tight.

  Another was the shiver that ran up and down his spine then settled in his gut.

  “Keith,” Shiro enunciates carefully, his tone low and fucking seductive sending another shiver along Keith’s spine.  It’s unbearably unfair how easily and effortlessly sensual Shiro is, always is.  It keeps Keith on a knife edge of utter wanton need.

  “Shiro,” he finds himself responding without even realising it.

  Another of those devastatingly soft smiles blooms on Shiro’s face as if Keith hung the moon and stars just for him.

  “C’mere,” Shiro murmured with a crook of a finger.

  “Ahhh,” Keith splutters, brain waving bye bye completely, traitorous bastard.

  His feet carried him closer to the bed without any input from his brain, he was sure, because if he _had_ been thinking with that part of his anatomy rather than something that resided further south, then he would have high-tailed it out of Shiro’s rooms and fled to his own.

  But, no, he wasn’t using his brain to think, so therefore he was standing at the side of Shiro’s bed, looking down at the man himself, and being urged to lay down with him.

  What?

  “C’mere,” Shiro whined, plaintive and just on the edge of being nauseatingly sweet.  “Don’t wanna be alone.”

  Oh…well, that was hardly a request he could deny.  Keith was well aware of how hard Shiro worked to keep his nightmares and anxiety at bay, told in the dark circles under his eyes, the aversion to discuss certain topics and the out and out panic he’d witnessed before Shiro stalked away to fall apart at the seams in private.

  Kneeling on the bed he was grabbed and found himself staring at the ceiling, Shiro’s human arm slung over his waist, strong legs curling around his, pinning him to the bed.  Shiro leaned into Keith, his breath warm over his cheek.

  “Ahh, is that better?” Keith asked hesitantly.

  “Yeah,” Shiro answered, tone gone gravely and low.

  And that was how he ended up staring up at the ceiling, trapped in Shiro’s embrace, fighting down a boner, questioning his very existence.


	2. Chapter 2

 

  The morning light streaming through the window woke Keith and he immediately panicked.

  He’d cracked his eyes open to find himself staring at Shiro’s peacefully sleeping face, arm slung over Keith’s waist, their legs tangled together.

  Honestly, he’d meant to lay with Shiro for a while, let him drift off, then sneak out.  But somehow, here he still was, in Shiro’s bed (well, on top of it) with the man himself scant inches from him.

  Why, why, why did he let this happen?

  Fuck that, he knew why.

  He was weak and Shiro was absurdly hot and sweet and the perfect man in every way, though Shiro himself would have argued the point on that.  Shiro thought he was broken, Keith could see it in the way he would try to duck his head if he were complimented or praised.  He could see it in the way Shiro shied away from reflective surfaces.  The way he hid how bad his PTSD was, refused help for it, refused to talk about it.  It was in the clench of his jaw, the line of his shoulders, the bags under his eyes after another sleepless night.

  He disentangled himself from Shiro, easing out of the bed, resolutely keeping his back turned as he left.

  Lance cornered him - because of course fucking Lance would find him leaving Shiro’s quarters, still in the clothes he had on the night before, looking rumpled – giving him a shit eating grin.

  “Hey Mullet,” the biggest pain in Keith’s ass smirked.

  Keith breathed in, then out, calming himself before he said anything.  Two years on the back of a space whale had been excellent for his temper, or rather, his ability to control it.

  “What?”

  Lance put on a mock innocent expression and Keith smelled trouble.

  “So, you and the Captain, huh?”

  Keith narrowed his eyes, “what?” he repeated, voice going deceptively soft.

  “Aww, c’mon, spill, did you finally hit that?”

  “Lance, I will end you!” Keith growled.

  “I want deets dude, c’mon, don’t leave me hangin’.”  Lance grins, completely unrepentant and Keith’s glare doesn’t perturb him in the slightest.  “We’re all waiting for you two to stop all the UST and just do the dirty.”

  Keith’s mouth dropped open, “all?  What?  Nothing…there’s nothing going on.  Shiro doesn’t…I…he’s my friend.”

  Lance rolled his eyes, “seriously?”  Pushing away from the wall he’d been leaning on, he leaned into Keith’s personal space, something he did far too often.  “You really think…fuck, wait ‘til I tell the others about this.”

 “Lance, you’re not making sense,” Keith hissed, grabbing his arm before he scampered off.  “Shiro was drunk last night, I brought him home, that’s all.”

  “Uh huh, and that’s why you’re sneaking out of his rooms now?”

  Keith was having more and more trouble resisting the urge to punch something, preferably Lance’s smug face.  “I stayed to make sure he was ok.”

  His confusion must have shown on his face because Lance went wide-eyed, mouth open, “you mean it, don’t you, you have no fuckin’ clue…”  His eyes narrowed, noting the flush to Keith’s face.  He shrugged Keith’s hand off his arm and instead took hold of the Leader of Voltron and dragged him away from Shiro’s door, down the hall and into the kitchen.  With a shove, Keith found himself at the table.

  “What the fuck, Lance,” he spat.

  “Right, I know we’re not exactly…ya know, close, but I really think you need to talk about this shit.”

  “Yeah, uh, that’s not helping, I have no idea what you think I need to spill my guts about,” Keith said, frustration bleeding into his tone.

  “Are you really going to try and tell me you don’t love Shiro?”

  “Lance!”  Keith darted his eyes around, making sure they were alone, that no-one had heard anything.  “Fuck…why do you think that…that I…”

  “I don’t _think_ it, Mullet.  I know it, so does everyone else, you’re not as subtle as you think you are.  You make heart eyes at him every chance you get.”  Lance leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest.

  “He’s…” Keith swallowed nervously, averting his gaze.  “He’s my brother.”  The words tasted wrong in his mouth.

  Lance snorted, “yeah, I’ve got brothers dude, I don’t look at ‘em like that.”

  “He’s family,” Keith tried weakly, still not looking at Lance.

  “Yeah, maybe he is, but he’s totally not your brother.”  Lanced sighed, tilting forward and resting his elbows on the table.  “Keith, I don’t know why you’re so…” he waved a hand in Keith’s direction.  “Hesitant, why not just tell him.”

  Keith slumped, “I did.”

  “What?”

  “The…the cloning facility…at least I told the…the clone.  Fuck, it’s all messed up,” Keith moaned into his hands.

  “Have you two ever talked about it, like, properly?” Lance asked quietly, all joking and smugness gone from his voice, replaced with genuine concern.

  “N…no, not really,” Keith answered.

  “Can you tell me what happened?”

  Keith sucked in a deep breath.  He shot Lance a furtive glance, “he tried…no, the clone tried to kill me.”  He ignored Lance’s soft ‘shit’, blurting out all of it.  The row after row of clones, the words he’d spat at him, the weird gleam in his eyes, how he’d given Keith his scar.  “I called him my brother,” he whispered as he glanced back up at Lance again.  “Then I…I said I loved him and for a second…I thought I’d got through to him, I mean now I know, it wasn’t truly Shiro, it was the clone, but…that’s when he did this,” Keith said, running a finger over the burn scar on his cheek.  “I…I cut his arm off and that seemed to sever the connection to the witch, but by then the facility was practically destroyed.  I had him by the wrist, trying to keep him from falling…then we were both falling…”

  “Black saved you both,” Lance interjected.  He didn’t need to say that Keith had been willing to die at the facility, had _thought_ he was going to die. 

  Keith nodded, “yeah and I saw Shiro, the real Shiro.”  He fought back the tightness in his throat, “I should have known.”

  “Keith, none of us knew, he tried to reach us…you need to talk to him, properly.”

  “I don’t think I can,” Keith mourned. 

  Lance sighed again, “look, I get it, I really do, there’s nothing more terrifying than telling someone you love them, really love them, the fear of rejection…just trust me, I get it.”

  Lance’s low tone snaps Keith’s attention back to him and he sees the fleeting expression of pain over his face before it’s replaced by a wry grin that’s not entirely convincing.

  “Have you told her?”

  Lance laughed, devoid of mirth, “not in so many words.”

  “Are we both idiots?” Keith asked.

  That prompted a real laugh from Lance, “no doubt about it.”

  After his talk with Lance, Keith wandered over to the Atlas, intent on hiding from Iverson who had been hounding him about some apparently important paperwork that Keith had no intention of filling out and that Iverson would insist was vital, to which Keith would most likely continue to avoid until Iverson filled it out himself. 

  Being corralled by Sam Holt was a much better option that Iverson, but still mildly annoying.  Pidge and Matt are both so like Sam in their enthusiasm for anything knew and unknown it makes Keith grin as he talks to Sam about how he connects with Black and the hint of bond he still feels from Red.  Sam fires questions at him, earnest and eager for more answers.

  “Hasn’t Pidge told you all this?” he asked after around the fifteenth question.

  “Katie told me about her Lion, but I am sure the situation with Black and Red is rather unusual.  Does Shiro still feel Black…even after…” Sam falters, something in Keith’s expression warning him that the topic of Shiro and Black combined is perhaps not one he wants to broach.

  When Sam tried to apologise, Keith shook his head, “no, it’s ok, just a bit of a touchy subject, just…I’m not sure Shiro wants to talk about it either.”

  Keith then gets entangled in a weird conversation with Coran, which honestly is pretty normal for any conversation with Coran, considering some of the tangents he’s prone to go off on, but this one is…even odder than usual.

  “I’m not sure I’m the person to ask, Coran,” Keith protests, scratching his head.

  “Why not?” Coran asked with a twist of his moustache.  “I would ask Shiro, but he is not here.”

  “Ahh, right…he’s hungover…probably.”

  “Ohhh,” Coran’s eyes light up.  “Was it a dating ritual?  Is drinking copious amounts of alcohol a form of wooing one’s mate for humans?”

  “Ummm…” Keith mutters.  Well, Coran’s not exactly wrong, some _humans_ do use alcohol as a social lubricant.  “In some cases it is, but Shiro’s not a big drinker.”

  “Oh, so what do you usually do on a date with him?”  Coran’s question is completely innocent and yet Keith is floored.

  “What?”

  “I am sorry, is it rude to ask that?”  Another moustache twirl accompanied by a head tilt.

  “No…um, I’m not…Shiro and I aren’t…dating,” Keith sputters in explanation.

  Coran’s expression falls, “oh quiznack.”  He peers at Keith, sympathetic expression on his face and it’s something that Keith struggles not to wipe off with a snarky comment.  Coran doesn’t deserve it. 

  Instead he walks away before he loses his fucking mind.

 

  There is such a thing as too much of a good thing Keith decided abruptly as he came face to ass with a very wet, very naked Shiro.

  Slapping a hand over his face stopped the whine that wormed up into his throat, but it did nothing for the instant boner that sprang to life at the sight of Takashi Shirogane bent over, dripping wet, as he retrieved at towel from the floor.

  A lot of things went through Keith’s brain in that moment.

  Shiro shaves being one of the foremost.  That fact gave him an unobstructed view of the puckered ring.

  And his balls swinging between his thighs.

  Which led to the confirmation of something long suspected.

  Something long and thick.

  He backed up slowly, definitely not in the state for a conversation with most of the blood in his body heading in a very southerly direction.  And he didn’t know how he would cope with seeing more of Shiro’s greek godliness on display.  There was only so much that a towel could hide and there was so much of Shiro it was bound to be inadequate to the task.

  He should have glanced behind himself.  He knew that the moment he felt himself tipping backwards.

  Hindsight is a fucking wonderful thing when you’re planted on your ass and a muscled fantasy of a man wrapped in a scrap of towel comes to your rescue.

  “Keith,” Shiro murmured as he bent down, heedless of how naked and still wet he was.  “Are you ok?”  The slight husky rasp in his voice was very much apparent to Keith as he tried to focus on that and not on the droplets of water that dribbled down Shiro’s pecs.

  Keith really needs to stop ogling Shiro.

  Somehow, he can’t.

  He can’t even speak, which prompts Shiro into kneeling next to him, those expressive grey eyes concerned and so, so soft.

  Keith managed to make some sort of sound, possibly something like a kettle whistling and he knew his face was practically on fire with embarrassment, tearing his eyes away from where Shiro’s muscular thigh was splitting the fold of the towel and barely keeping him decent.  He bit his lip to distract himself and forced his eyes up.  He knew they were lingering, but, damn, how could he _not_.

  Shiro finally became aware of the condition he was in, scooting back a little, tugging at the scrap of fabric around his waist.

  “I’m fine,” Keith squeaked, also scooting back and shifting to his knees.  “Just…ahhh…tripped.”

  “Right, I’ll just…umm,” Shiro mumbled, flushing pink right to the tips of his ears.

  Keith escapes, hiding himself in his own quarters and sinking to the floor, unable and unwilling to erase the image of Shiro bent over from his brain.

  Fuck.

  He’s seen Shiro naked before, but not…not like _that_.

  Keith can’t decide if he’s been cursed or blessed.

 


	3. Chapter 3

 

  A few days after the _shower incident_ , Keith has a theory that he is somehow in one of Slav’s alternate realities.  One where everyone thinks he’s in love with Shiro, (not wrong, but, well…) and that he and Shiro are dating.

  Weirdest of all is the fact that Lance, of all people, has become a sort of confidante and the brunt of all his angst in regards to the Captain of the Atlas.

  Lance, who keeps urging him to at least talk to Shiro about the cloning facility.

  Yeah, he’s not doing that.

  Shiro already feels enough guilt.  Him being the Captain of the _Atlas_ is rather fitting in the way Shiro carries the weight of the world on his broad shoulders.

  Keith does not want to add to that.

  It’s his problem, not Shiro’s.  He will just have to learn to deal, tamp it down again.

  He manages to keep himself busy for three days before he has to admit he’s avoiding his problem, said Problem taking the form of over six feet of hard muscle and soft expressions that melt his insides.  He can’t avoid every meeting but he can make sure he isn’t alone with Shiro, haunting lesser populated areas of the garrison, using the training area late at night to make sure he doesn’t run into Shiro in the hallway that comprises of all the Paladin’s living quarters, taking late lunches and early breakfasts when there is less chance of running into him.

  He thinks he’s being subtle.

  He’s not if Pidge’s intense eye roll is anything to go by when he slips into a chair beside her and as far from Shiro as he can get.  Normally his place is beside Shiro near the head of the table, the leader of Voltron seated with the Captain of the Atlas.  Keith pointedly keeps his eyes away from Shiro, but he can still feel the weight of his confused gaze on the side of his face.

  He mumbles an apology and hopes it allays any questions.

  Thankfully, for now, it does.

  He tries to vanish out the door before he can be waylaid and questioned, but Shiro knows him too well and is on his heels, his voice soft and smoky when he calls out to him. 

  “Keith, please,” Shiro murmured as he stepped close, hand landing on his shoulder to halt his stride.  “What have I done wrong, you’re avoiding me?”

  “No I haven’t,” Keith lies through his teeth.

  Shiro scoffs quietly, shaking his head in denial, “you’re a bad liar.”

  Pursing his lips in a grimace, Keith shrugged, trying to dislodge the weight of Shiro’s hand from his shoulder.  Shiro is relentless, squeezing and refusing to budge.  Looks like they are going to have a conversation and Keith isn’t sure which one will terrify him more.

  “It’s not important,” he settles on, hoping to skirt around either topic and escape before Shiro can pin him with that sharp grey gaze.

  “I’m not buying that for a second, I know you Keith,” Shiro murmured in that same soft tone that lances straight through Keith’s heart.  He can hear the confusion and hurt in Shiro’s tone and wants to kick himself for making his friend feel that way.

  A resigned sigh leaves Keith’s mouth before he can stop it, Shiro stiffening beside him in anticipation of what Keith is going to say.

  “Ok, ok, I’m just dealing with some stuff and…it’s not something I want to talk about.”

  “Oh,” Shiro whispers mournfully.

  He’s made it worse.

  “It’s not…fuck,” Keith hissed, running a distracted hand through his hair.  “I’m sorry, I just don’t think talking about it will help.”

  Shiro’s hand moves from his shoulder to Keith cheek, thumb stroking over the scar there, “is it,” a strained gulp.  “Is it because of this?  What I did?”

  “Shiro, no, don’t think like that, it wasn’t you, not really…I mean…fuck, don’t blame yourself, please.”

  “It was me, at least, partly me, or…I have Kuron’s memories, at least most of them, some are still hazy, but I…remember stuff,” Shiro said quietly, thumb still stroking the scar, his expression so sad Keith wants to tug him into a hug.  The confession made him panic, wondering if Shiro remembers certain things Keith said at the cloning facility.  But he can’t ask, won’t ask.

  “Shiro, please,” Keith pleads.  “Don’t feel guilt over something that wasn’t in your control.”

  “I remember what I said, what _he_ said to you.”

  “Hey, stop, I’m not letting you do this, alright,” Keith growled, startling Shiro with the ferocity.  “ _You_ would never say that stuff to me, that’s how I knew something wasn’t right.” 

  “I hurt you,” Shiro spat, voice rising.

  “And I cut your fucking arm off!” Keith yelled, frustration getting the better of him.  He took in several deep breaths as Shiro backed up and leaned against the wall.  “I don’t want to do this here, in fact I don’t want to do this at all.  It’s not helping either of us rehashing it.”  He glanced at Shiro again.  “Look, I said some shit, you said some shit, or your clone or whatfuckingever,” he waved his hand.  “We both did stuff that day, in the end it doesn’t matter, you’re here now, you’re ok.”

  “You saved me, again.”

  The words were whispered, but Keith still caught them.

  “You saved me first,” he retorted, spinning on his heel, he left Shiro alone in the hallway.

 

  Hours later Matt found him propping up the bar in a little dive as far from the Garrison as he could get.

  “Well, you look like shit,” Matt observed mildly as he plonked himself onto a stool next to Keith.

  Keith flicked his middle finger in Matt’s direction, “I _feel_ like shit.”

  Matt looks down at the empty glass curled in Keith’s fist, only slightly judgemental, “I’m sure.”

  Keith follows Matt’s eyeline, frowning when he realises that it’s empty.  He signals the bartender and taps his glass.  “Another,” turning to Matt, “you joining or just gonna watch?”

  “I’m good,” Matt smirked.  “Is that wise, you seem pretty trashed?”

  “Done bein’ wise, hasn’t got me anywhere, ‘specially today,” Keith mumbled.

  Matt hummed, “yeah, heard about that.”

  Keith’s head snapped up and if he hadn’t been as drunk as he was it might have resulted in pain shooting down his neck.  “What?”

  A shrug from Matt, “I ran into Shiro after you…well, yeah.”

  Shit.

  Keith thudded his head down on the bar, groaning, “fuck.”  Taking a peek from his position he found the elder Holt sibling watching him carefully.  “Is he ok?”

  “Says he is, but you know Shiro as well as I do, so…no.”

  “Crap, shit, fuck!”  Keith knocked his head on the bar repeatedly.  “That’s exactly why I didn’t want to talk about that shit!”

  “You aren’t either, Keith,” Matt said quietly.

  A scowl in Matt’s direction was the only response he gave to that.

  “What?  You telling me that you sitting here, drinking alone is a _good_ sign?”

  Another scowl, this one deeper and more menacing.  Matt ignored his belligerence, pulling out his communicator.

  “Found him,” Matt said, giving the person on the other end of the line the name of the bar.  “Yeah, I’ll make sure he stays put ‘til you get here.”

  “Please tell me that wasn’t Shiro,” Keith groaned, lifting his head from the sticky bar finally. 

  “No, it wasn’t Shiro, I’m not sure where he went after I spoke to him.  Lance is coming to take you back, he said he knows what’s wrong,” Matt informed him.

  “Fuck, is my life a topic for conversation for _everyone_?”

  Matt rolled his eyes, “we’re all worried about whatever it is that’s going on with you.”  A slight pause, “and Shiro.”

  “There’s nothing going on with me and Shiro,” Keith hissed.

  “Yeah, that might be the problem,” Matt mumbled.

  Keith was just a touch too drunk to examine that comment, stewing in silence.  He was unaware of how long he sat side by side with Matt until Lance bounded through the door.

  “Mullet!” he called, striding up to Keith.  “Hey, thanks for finding him, Matt.”

  “Happy to help, did you send Hunk and Katie back?”

  “Yeah, Allura picked them up,” Lance answered.

  “Alright then, I’ll go see if I can track Shiro down,” Matt said, clapping both Keith and Lance on their backs.

  “Good luck with that,” Lance said softly.  “He took a hoverbike.”

  “Ugh, he could be anywhere then, might have to wait until he decides to come back.”

  Keith hung his head.  He had a pretty good idea where Shiro might go if he were trying to find him.  Not finding Keith there, Shiro would come back, if that was why he’d vanished.  He looked between the other two men who thankfully were ignoring him for a moment, considering if he should tell them where he thought Shiro might have gone to.

  “Just message him that Keith’s ok, he’ll turn up, he’s a big boy, he can look after himself,” Lance told Matt.

  “Are you sayin’ I can’t,” Keith muttered.

  Matt’s response was to leave, Lance nudged Keith’s shoulder and removed the glass from his hand.

  “You’ve had enough, man.”

  “Yeah, I don’t think so, I can still remember…everything,” Keith muttered darkly.  “He…he tried to talk to me, I think he wanted to apologise for what he’d said to me, you know, at the cloning facility.”

  “Ok?” Lance murmured.

  “But that wasn’t even him,” Keith groaned.  “He said he can remember some stuff that his clone did and said,” he added, peering at Lance, violet eyes mournful.  “I…I panicked.”

  “What are you so scared of?” Lance asked gently.  “If you talk to him about everything, what freaks you out so much?”

  “That…that he’ll feel guilty, that I’ll make his PTSD worse than it already is…that he thinks I love him like a brother…that I’ll lose him as my friend if he realises that it’s not like that,” Keith answered, voice starting to crack, eyes burning.  “Or maybe that he’ll try to be my friend still knowing I want more and I’ll see pity in his eyes when he looks at me.”  His breath hitched as the first tear fell.  “And he’s still grieving, I don’t want to lump my shit on him on top of that.”

  Lance slipped from his stool, gathering Keith into his arms, “Keith, you’re torturing yourself.  C’mon, I’m taking you back, you can stay with me.”

  “Huh?” Keith grumbled, tumbling off the stool and slouching against Lance.

  “You’re a mess man, I’m not letting you stay on your own.”

  Keith’s bottom lip wobbled, clutching Lance like a life-line, “Lance, I uhh…thanks, for everything.”

  “Any time dude, us hopelessly pining fools gotta stick together, and besides it makes me look good, maybe Allura will notice I’m being nice to you.”

  Keith rolled his eyes, tears forgotten, “and there’s the Lance I know and love.”

  “Aww, you love me too?  Won’t that make Shiro jelly?” Lance quipped, ducking the unco-ordinated fist thrown his way.

  “Shiro wouldn’t care you jackass,” Keith muttered, stumbling out the door.  “And I love _you_ like a brother.”

  “Keith, my man, oh fearless leader, you should try dating someone else, I would lay bets that Shiro does care,” Lance laughed, dragging Keith down the street to where he’d parked.

  “Yeah right, even if I wanted to date someone else, where would my gay ass go to find someone?  I’m not exactly date material.”

  “Keith, seriously?  You’re the Black Paladin, I know for a fact there’s plenty of ladies and more than a few guys willing to hit that.”  Lance shoved Keith into the passenger seat, turning serious.  “Despite the poor fashion choices and the abysmal hair style, you’re attractive.”

  “You offering?” Keith chuckled, settling into the seat with a sigh.

  “Oh no, this,” Lance said with a gesture to himself, “is a ladies only zone, but that doesn’t mean I’m blind dude.  I am comfortable enough with my own sexuality to admit when a guy is hot, and that’s you.”

  “Aww, you’re makin’ me feel all warm and fuzzy,” Keith snarked, then burped.

  “No barfing in the ride dude!”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> so, there are a few little easter eggs in this chapter and the next for anyone who has read my DV8 fic for the FFXV fandom, it's not vital to the story, so I haven't tagged it, but it might be fun for those who know what I'm talking about. You won't have to have read that fic for anything to make sense, it's just something I had a little fun with. Writing about a group of people flying around space kinda let me add this in and have a chuckle about it.

 

  The problem with being a Paladin and leader of the Paladins and therefore their representative was Keith was expected to perform in a diplomatic capacity, something he was _not_ suited to and something he tried to fob off onto Allura as often as possible.  Not that that tactic worked particularly well.  Combined with that was the fact that Shiro was the Captain of the Atlas and the Lions were housed inside, so…

  Avoiding Shiro was virtually impossible when they were on a diplomatic mission.

  Like this one.

  With the Atlas now having it’s own teleduv, the missions had increased in regularity. 

  Eos was their current destination and as they landed outside its major city, Keith was struck by how like Earth it was.  Earth with magic.  Magic granted by a crystal one of their stoic escorts explained, demonstrating by conjuring a weapon in a flash of blue sparks, something that reminded Keith of how they used their bayards.

  “It’s just like Tokyo,” Shiro whispered in awe as they entered the city, craning his neck to stare up at the towering building they were about to enter.

  “And they speak something that sounds like Latin,” Pidge added.

  “Weird, like maybe one of their ancestors was an ancient roman who somehow found a wormhole and ended up here,” Hunk said as he fidgeted beside Pidge.  “And maybe he took over and that’s why everything seems so…familiar.”

  “Ancient Romans?” Allura asked.

  “They were a civilisation that conquered large amounts of land earlier in Earth’s history, a lot of our language comes from them, we still use a lot of their words now, but latin itself is generally used for science, it’s not spoken anymore as a language,” Pidge explained, fiddling with her communicator.  “I suggest we input latin into our translators, it should assist us with our negotiations.”

  Keith tore his gaze away from Shiro blinking in nostalgic awe, definitely not noticing the gleam in his silvery eyes, nope, not noticing at all.  He could imagine Shiro remembering his original home, the soft smile on his face enough to make Keith forget he’d been trying to avoid Shiro for weeks.  The familiar butterflies take flight in his stomach forcing him to look away before he does something stupid.

  God, why can’t he just get over this infatuation?

  Shiro placed himself beside Keith as they walked in to the building where they are having their meeting with the leaders of this planet, practically vibrating with excitement as he leans close to Keith’s ear, “they have sushi!”

  He can’t help but laugh at just how thrilled Shiro is, it’s infectious, he looks to where Shiro points, seeing someone eating their lunch and sure enough it certainly looks like sushi.

  “Maybe when we have some down time later you can sniff out where it came from,” Keith said.

  He’s rewarded with a beaming Shiro, nodding enthusiastically at the idea.  Keith blinked at the force of it, almost blinded by how bright his smile is and his heart aches.  This is how he wants them to be around each other, easy and comfortable again, not the enforced distance that Keith has put upon them.

  “Would you come with me?” Shiro asked him, sounding hesitant.

  “Ahh, not really my thing, but you knock yourself out,” Keith muttered.

  Shiro’s expression stilled, “oh, ok.”

  If there was a wall nearby, Keith would bang his head against it, repeatedly.  Lance pursed his lips and shook his head at Keith.

  Trying to fix the situation, he leans back in, “but if you find somewhere that sells chilli let me know.”

  The tentative smile is back on Shiro’s face, “this place is so like Earth I’m sure I’ll find some.”

  “Or Hunk will,” Keith chuckled.

 

  Keith was reminded why he hated these things, sitting in glum silence by the wall while Shiro and Allura spoke with the King, Coran and Sam Holt chiming in via hologram with Iverson hovering in the background, something that had fascinated one of the advisors, a man that Keith had discovered was the Prince’s husband.

  Said Prince was slumped beside Keith, obviously as bored as he was, the pair sharing a grimace as the King ordered drinks and food to be brought so they could continue their meeting in comfort.

  One of the things that held his attention was Shiro, currently all sharp glances and spouting information when asked by the King and the gaggle of advisors and councillors around him.  The Prince’s husband was one of the more intelligent from what he could gather, asking pointed questions about trade and alliances, to which the Prince responded by grinning.

  “So,” the Prince said quietly, “is he your boyfriend?”

  Keith almost choked on his drink, prompting a quick concerned glance from the man in question.

  “Ahh, no,” Keith murmured trying to keep the conversation from drifting to the object of it.  “He’s…my friend and Captain.”

  “Mhm, but you want him,” The Prince whispered catching on to Keith’s wish for secrecy.  “You keep looking at him like you want to eat him.  Good taste, he’s pretty easy on the eyes.”

  Keith pointedly looked down at the Prince’s wedding ring, then at the tall svelte man with glasses across the room and then back at the Prince who had followed his gaze.

  The Prince laughed softly.  Keith wracked his brain, trying to remember their names, the communicator translating them to night for the Prince and fire for his husband.  The King was called something that meant king unhelpfully.

  “Oh, don’t be like that, I can look and I’d never touch, the man I have is more than enough for me,” Night murmured with a sly grin in Fire’s direction.  “Is he gay?”

  Keith shot a quick glance to Shiro, then back, “yeah.”

  “Single?”

  “I think so,” Keith answered with a sigh.  “He had a boyfriend back on Earth before…before we all ended up as Paladins, but it went to shit and he died before Shiro got back.”

  “Oh,” Night said. 

  Keith wasn’t sure why he felt so comfortable talking to this man, a Prince at that.  Maybe it was the fact they seemed similar, slightly standoffish, quiet, letting the others speak.

  “I don’t want to…he’s grieving and there’s everything else going on…I just…can’t.”  He paused, “it’s complicated.”

  “You’re close though, I saw how you two act.”

  “Yeah, or we were.” Keith sighed.  “I’ve been an ass lately.”  Another deep sigh.  “He thinks that I think of him like a brother.  I should probably try to move on.”

  “Really?” Night asked.  When Keith nodded sadly the Prince turned to him a little, still keeping his voice low so no-one would hear them, “I might be able to assist with that, or at least help you take your mind off it.  My husband and I, we own a couple of clubs, one of them might be a bit…much to handle right now, but the other is a nightclub, we cater to a mainly gay crowd.”  Night took two business cards out of his pocket and shuffled them in his hand.  “Deviate is…well, a sex club would be the best description I guess, but Regalia is definitely somewhere more your style, I think.”  He handed the cards to Keith.

  “Uh, thanks,” Keith said, taking the cards and examining them.  Oh, DV8, not deviate.  Keith bit his lip.  “Yeah, this one might be…too much, but the other…maybe.”  He glanced at the Prince curiously.  “Um, don’t take this wrong, but isn’t it a bit weird for you two to own…those type of places?”

  The Prince laughed, “I suppose some might think that, but we’re pretty open, I met my husband at DV8, and it’s pretty classy, then we purchased Regalia together.”  Night smiled at the memory.  “We could go with you, Ignis and I, if you like, introduce you to some people,” Night offered.  Ignis, right, that was his husband’s name.  Now he only had to figure out what the Prince’s was.

  “Yeah, maybe,” Keith said, mulling it over.

  He looked up to see Ignis smiling at the Prince indulgently, then smirked with a raised brow at the cards in Keith’s hand.

  Night laughed, “doesn’t miss a trick.”  He nudged Keith, “c’mon, it’ll be fun no matter what, you don’t have to go out and find a one night stand or anything, just have a night out and not think about stuff.  I know what it’s like to get bogged down by shit in your head.”

  “You are the most un-princely Prince I’ve ever met,” Keith said with a shake of his head.

  “Yeah, I get that a lot,” Night conceded with a grin.  “Dad wanted me to live as normal a life as possible before I have to, you know, help him rule and then take over.”  He chuckled, “I’ve worked some pretty normal jobs.”

  Keith snorted, “my normal has been flying around in a mechanical lion trying to save the universe and now this shit.”

  The Prince laughed again, running a hand through his black hair.  “All the more reason to have a night out with new friends.”

  Shiro frowned at the pair laughing together, Keith looking down to hide his flush.  When he looked up again, Shiro had turned back, lips pursed.  Hunk and Lance stood together off to one side while Pidge was speaking to Ignis, hands waving as she explained something.  Allura hadn’t noticed anything at all, which was thankful as she would chastise him later for not paying attention as leader of Voltron. 

  Keith thought about the Prince’s offer as he tried to at least look like he was paying attention to the meeting, but his thoughts kept wandering and his eyes kept straying to Shiro.  He had to stop lusting after someone who had no interest in him that way.  And he really needed to stop staring at his ass, and shoulders as they strained his uniform, and his jaw, and…his everything.  His heart twisted in his chest as Shiro smiled and nodded at something the King said, his white hair flopping on his forehead.

  As the meeting seemed to be starting to wind down, Pidge and Ignis walked over and seated themselves with Keith and the Prince.

  “Your Highness, your husband is a genius,” she said around Keith. 

  “That he is,” the Prince replied with a smile as he took Ignis’ hand.

  “Hmm, and my husband has been ignoring everything as usual,” Ignis drawled.

  Night rolled his eyes, “you know I hate this diplomatic shit, Speccy.”

  “You hate all this ‘shit’, Noctis,” the Advisor sighed.  “You two were as thick as thieves while the rest of us were actually attending to what was going on.”

  Noctis, right, Night was Noctis.  At least now Keith knew his name.

  “I was convincing Keith here to join us at Regalia later, you know, forming diplomatic ties,” the Prince retorted.

  “You should go, Keith,” Pidge pipped up.  “We’re all heading out to do different stuff, so you should have fun too.  Shiro said he’s going on a sushi hunt and Hunk’s going with him.  Lance was trying to convince Allura to go somewhere with him and I’m going down to the Library to pilfer as much knowledge as I can, Ignis here gave me a card to get in.”  She grinned at Keith, looking like that cat that got the cream at the prospect.  “I want to try and see if I can work out how it is that the language is Latin.”

  “Sounds like fun,” Keith muttered.

  “Yeah, well, we can’t all find joy in training until all hours and haunting the halls of the Atlas like an emo ghost,” Pidge snarks at him good-naturedly.

  “I am not emo!” Keith hissed at her.

  “You are like the pinnacle of emo-ness, oh fearless leader,” Pidge retorted with a devilish grin.  “Who else would hang out on a space whale for two years?”

  Ignis and Noctis blinked in confusion.

  “A space whale?” Ignis inquired.

  Keith rolled his eyes, “long story.”

  Pidge giggled, “yeah, and while he’s telling you about that, ask him about his teleporting cosmic wolf.”

  Noctis laughed, “you really weren’t joking about the normal thing were you.”

  “I’d certainly like to hear more about these sentient mechanical lions,” Ignis smiled as he looked at Keith. 

  Keith sighed, resigned to his fate for the evening, “I’m not getting out of this, am I?”

  “Getting out of what?”

  Keith’s head snapped up to lock eyes with Shiro standing before him.

  “Oh, uh…” Keith muttered, sent off centre as he always is when he hears Shiro speak.  He’s watching him intently, brow furrowed as he waits for Keith to say something coherent.

  “My husband and I are taking Keith out this evening, if that is alright,” Ignis put in for him, giving him a moment to try and collect his thoughts.

  Shiro tilted his head, checking in silently with Keith, to make sure he’s actually ok with it, “that’s nice of you, I mean, of course it’s fine, it’s Keith’s choice.”

  “We own a couple of clubs downtown, so I thought it would be good for diplomatic relations to take Keith out,” Noctis supplied with a sly little smile.

  Something inscrutable crossed Shiro’s features, fleeting and gone before Keith can identify it.

  “You could join us if you wish,” Ignis said, sharing a quick look with his husband.  Keith swears they are communicating telepathically when they both give Keith identical knowing grins.

  “I…ah, thank you for the offer, but I am heading out with Hunk this evening,” Shiro said politely, but to Keith it sounds…off.  “I’d better go, ahh, nice to have met you your Highness,” he said to Noctis with an incline of his head.  “And you too, sir,” he added turning to Ignis before he moved away to talk with Hunk and Lance.  They hold a whispered conversation, Lance raising his eyebrows in surprise at Keith.  Shiro had obviously told them his plans for the night.  He shrugged at Lance.

  Pidge shoved her elbow into Keith’s ribs and shot him a smile, “have fun,” she said as she stood.

  That left Keith with the Prince and his husband, feeling confused and nervous about what they had planned for the evening.

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

 

  Keith sat in the bar with Noctis and Ignis, surprised by how everyone treated the Prince like he was completely average.  There was hardly any deference, only that he was the boss.  They’d sat around the table they shared for about a half hour before one of the workers from DV8 strolled in and immediately made himself at home at their table.  Nyx, he’d said his name was with a little smirk.  Ignis had rolled his eyes at Nyx’s antics and it was obvious that Nyx was the type of man utterly comfortable with who he was.  Considering he was a highly paid escort, it only made sense.

  When Noct explained who Keith was Nyx had arched a brow and then pumped him for information.

  And then he had stunned Keith.

  “Who knew universal saviours were so cute,” Nyx chuckled.

  Keith had choked on his drink.

  “What?”

  “It’s such a shame these two didn’t bring you into DV8, I could have had some fun with you,” Nyx said with a little smile and a wink.

  “That’s enough, Nyx, you know very well DV8 is not for everyone,” Ignis scolded him.

  “He’s trying to get over someone, leave him alone,” Noctis put in, scowling at the man.

  Keith hung his head, cheeks flushing.

  Ignis saved him from responding, “how are things over there?”

  Nyx laughed, deep and throaty, “good as usual, Pel and Tredd were on stage when I left, Libs had the private booths under control and Loqi was spankin’ someone’s ass in the dungeon.”

  Keith choked again.  “Dungeon!?”

  “Pay this heathen no mind, Keith.  There is no dungeon, just a room fitted out with certain apparatus that some enjoy,” Ignis explained. 

  After sitting and talking companionably for an hour, Ignis extended his hand to Noctis and led him to the dance floor, the pair swaying together sensually.  It left Keith with Nyx and he tried to keep the conversation on safe topics by asking him about the little tattoos and braids in his hair.

  “Ahh, those are part of my heritage, signs of which tribe I belonged to, my family ties and so on.  This one,” Nyx said, pointing to a small triangular tattoo under one eye, “that shows that I am an Ulric.  And this,” he stroked a line that intersected with another down his neck, “that’s a tribal mark.”  He leaned close, “I have others in less obvious places.”

  Keith refused to rise to the bait.  Nyx was nice, sexy and confident, but he wasn’t interested in even flirting with the man.  It had nothing to do with what he did for a living, or the fact he was shamelessly interested in Keith, it was just that he wasn’t really ready to do anything.  That, or he was so hung up on Shiro he just couldn’t even imagine being with anyone else.

  Nyx didn’t push though, merely leaning back in his seat and carrying on with the conversation as if he hadn’t noticed that Keith was studiously ignoring his attempts at seduction.  Keith appreciated that.

  “C’mon, those two are showing us up, dance with me,” Nyx said, extending his hand.

  Keith looked at his hand, “I, uhh, I’m not good at that.”

  “You don’t have to be, just have fun.”  Nyx grinned, “don’t make me use puppy dog eyes on you.”

  Keith barked out a laugh at that, “alright, but if I step on your toes don’t blame me.”

  Nyx wrapped his fingers around Keith’s and tugged him up, “I think I can handle it.”

  They danced with Noctis and Ignis for a few songs, Keith letting the music seep into his bones and dictate his movements, shaking his head in amusement when Nyx grinned at him encouragingly.  He’d drunk enough that he was feeling loose and lax, head bopping along to the music as he let his body sway.  The Prince and his husband stepped away after a few songs to wrap their arms around each other again, but Nyx hadn’t invaded Keith’s space too much so he stayed where he was.

  Nyx startled him when he leaned forward, “don’t look now, but I think I have some competition.”

  “What?” Keith said.

  “Hang on, I’ll spin us around and back again, he’s at the bar, watching you like a hawk.  Imposing sort of guy on his own.”

  Nyx grabbed his hips and spun them around, Keith getting a glimpse of white hair and broad shoulders.

  Shiro.

  Shit.

  Keith looked up at Nyx in panic, the other man still holding his hips.

  “Hey, are you ok, you’ve gone white as a sheet,” Nyx said quietly in his ear.

  “That’s…he’s…fuck,” Keith blurted, not knowing how to handle the situation.

  “Keith, breathe,” Nyx soothed, tucking a lock of his hair behind his ear gently.  “Is he the one that you have a thing for?”

  Keith bit his lip and nodded.

  Nyx peered over Keith’s shoulder, “he looks…pissed, or confused maybe.”  He glanced at Keith again.  “I’m not sure what the situation is with you two, what do you wanna do?”

  “He…he doesn’t know how I feel about him, we’re…friends.”

  Nyx mulled that over for a moment, then a spark of something devious lit up in his eyes, “we could show him what he’s missing, nothing…too much, I wouldn’t do that to you without permission, but just…”

  Keith frowned, “I doubt he’d care.”  He shrugged, “whatever.”

  “Ok, I’m going to hold you a bit closer, is that ok?”

  Keith nodded after a moment, going stiff when Nyx tugged him by his hips so they were almost flush against each other.  He draped his arms over Nyx’s shoulders, Nyx keeping them so Keith’s back was still to Shiro.  This was probably a bad idea, but Keith simply didn’t care at the moment, so tired of wanting something he couldn’t have.

  “I’m just going to act really interested, I mean, I am, but you’re not,” Nyx smiled down at him, expression going soft.  “And that’s ok, I promise my ego can handle it.”

  Despite himself, Keith laughed, “yeah, I figured that out.”  He smiled at Nyx, “if there wasn’t, you know…him, I might have been interested myself.”

  “Good to know,” Nyx grinned, leaning close, “at least I got a new friend out of it.”  He peered over Keith’s shoulder again.  “Don’t react, but I think you might have more of a chance with him than you think.”

  “Huh?”

  “He can’t take his eyes off you and he looks like he wants to kill me,” Nyx said.

  Keith shook his head, “no, he’s protective of his friends, that’s all.”

  “Keith,” Nyx murmured in his ear again, “there’s protective, baby, and then there’s jealous.  He’s jealous.  Trust me on this.”

  Keith was dying to turn around and see for himself, but he was afraid of the disappointment if he simply saw Shiro being his usual self and he couldn’t deal with letting his hopes get high and then shattered. 

  He looked up at Nyx sadly, “no, I doubt it, he’s always treated me like a kid brother and I even said he was my brother, he never said anything even…I told him I loved him once, I don’t think he remembers that.”  He struggled to keep the tears at bay and Nyx pulled him closer, more a hug than dancing.

  “I won’t pretend to know the history, but I think you’re wrong about how he feels,” he said as he rested his forehead against Keith’s.  “I’ve seen that look before, it’s not brotherly.”  Leaning back and cupping Keith’s face so he would look at him, “give it a chance.”

  “Why are you being so nice?” Keith asked him.

  “I like you, you’re pretty cool, and I trust the judgement of those two,” Nyx responded simply, tilting his head in the direction of Noctis and Ignis.  “I think you are worth knowing.”

  Keith rested his head on Nyx’s shoulder, “thanks, Nyx.”

  When the four men retreated to their table, Keith finally allowed himself a quick look to where Shiro had been sitting to find the spot empty.

  He’s not sure how he feels about that.

 

  “Did you have a good time last night?”

  The tone of the question is flat, polite, but there’s something simmering below the surface that Keith can’t identify.  Maybe bitter, maybe anger.  It’s certainly not something he’s used to being directed at him, not from Shiro.

  “The Prince is pretty cool, for a royal and all that.  I mean Allura is nice, but she’s scary too.  Noct is…really normal.  Ignis is sharp as a whip, no wonder he and Pidge got along so well.  I think they’ll make good allies,” Keith said, carefully picking his words.

  “Hmm,” is the only sound from Shiro at that.

  Keith took a deep breath, “I saw you in the club last night, why didn’t you come over and join us.  By the time I got back to the table you were gone.”

  “You seemed busy,” Shiro murmured, and the flat tone was there again.  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Tell you what?”  Keith was about at the end of his admittedly short fuse.

  “You were in a gay bar, dancing with a man…” Shiro stated, finally raising his head and looking at Keith.

  “Yeah, and?”

  “Are you gay?” Shiro blurted, averting his gaze again.

  “Seriously?”  Shiro nodded.  “I…I thought you knew,” Keith said softly.  Had he told Shiro?  It wasn’t like he was hiding it, it wasn’t as if he were deliberately keeping from people.  Shiro knew he was private about stuff.  Said stuff being anything remotely personal.

  “No, I didn’t know!”  Shiro spat the words out and Keith recoiled from the vehemence in his voice.

  Why was he so mad about this?

  “What the fuck?”  Keith ran his hands through his hair to distract himself.  He inhaled deeply trying to settle himself.  “Why is this such a big deal to you?  You’re gay…why is it a problem if I am?”

  “I thought…” Shiro began, deflating, shoulders drooping.  “I guess it doesn’t matter.”

  “Shiro…”

  Shiro stood suddenly, walking swiftly to the door, “I’m glad you had fun, you deserve to be happy.”

  Keith stared at Shiro’s back as he departed.

  It was the last time they spoke for three weeks.

 

  The first two weeks Shiro was a ghost in the halls of the Atlas, slipping out of rooms as Keith entered, avoiding the communal areas when everyone else congregated together.  When asked directly, by someone else, not Keith, Shiro would shrug and say he was busy.

  The dark smudges under his eyes, the tense line of his jaw, the utterly morose expression told a different story.

  PTSD Keith thought.

  Keith had his own nightmares, reliving moments in his dreams and instead of them ending the way they had in life, they ended…badly.  And the worst part was that Shiro figured in most of them.  He couldn’t even think about them without beads of sweat trickling down his spine.  Breath coming in pants as he shot up out of bed and had to pace.  If he was like _this_ , what was Shiro enduring?

  Shiro might have confided in him once, now he was avoiding Keith.

  Seeing those red rimmed sad grey eyes killed him.

  Then Iverson announced that Shiro had taken personal leave when they arrived back on Earth, that he’d be gone for a week and that he’d asked to be left alone.  Iverson told them he had a way to contact the Captain in the event of an emergency, but he hadn’t elaborated any further than that, Keith chafing at the thought that he had no way to reach out and comfort him.

  Maybe that was what Shiro wanted.

  Maybe he had finally realised Keith wasn’t worth the time and effort it took to be friends with him.

  No.  Shiro wasn’t like that.  It wasn’t in his nature to let people go or turn his back on them.  It had to be something else.  Something that meant Shiro needed time.  Time to think.

  The other paladins took the news of Shiro’s time away in silence and when Keith looked at them all in turn, he realised they all knew.  No-one would meet his gaze, not even Lance.

  He heard the whispers start up as he slunk out of the room, ignoring the frown on Iverson’s face at his sudden departure.  He had no desire for the others to see the turmoil as it painted his face, nor the deep, soul marking _hurt_ that lanced through his chest.

  It took him two days to realise that Matt Holt was missing of an evening, not joining his sister at meals, or with his father tinkering with some new device.

  It wasn’t hard to work out that Matt was visiting Shiro, wherever he was holed up.

  Not when Hunk tried to be sneaky in handing Matt a box that obviously contained something their resident chef had prepared.

  He tried confronting Matt when he found him entering the base early the third morning.  He’d laid in wait to see if his suspicion panned out, watching the sunrise distractedly, then his eyes spied the dust trail of a vehicle speeding through the desert.  When Matt jumped out, making his way to the main entrance, Keith pounced.

  There was no shock on Matt’s face when he saw who had accosted him, only something resigned.

  “Don’t,” Matt warned, hand held up.

  “Why?”  Keith stepped back, arms crossed.

  “Shit,” Matt hissed.  “I didn’t want to be in the middle of this.”  He shook his head ruefully, “I knew you’d work it out, _he_ thought it would be better this way.  He’s a dumb bastard about some things.”

  Keith slumped against the wall, defeated, “I just want to know he’s ok, Matt.”  He glanced at Matt plaintively, “please.”

  Matt took a deep breath and leaned against the wall with Keith.  “Have you ever wanted something so much it hurts, and you know you can’t have it, know that it’s completely out of reach, so you try to push it away, try to bury it so deep it never surfaces?  But then, for one reason or another, it gets shoved in your face and then suddenly it’s kind of in your grasp, but you’ve been hiding it for so long that you don’t know what to do with that knowledge?”  He paused and glanced at Keith, continuing when he nodded his understanding.  “But then…it’s ripped out from under you.  All that hope you let yourself feel, it all crumbles and all that’s left is emptiness and an ache.”

  Keith hung his head.  That was exactly how he felt about Shiro.

  “Yeah, I know how that feels,” Keith whispered knowing Matt could still hear him.

  Matt frowned and was silent for a moment.  “Hmm,” he muttered contemplatively after a few minutes.

  “I…I just want to help him, Matt.”

  Matt laughed softly, “you know what he’s like, that man has a martyr complex a mile wide, Keith.”

  “He does,” Keith agreed.  “If I thought it would help and wouldn’t make the PTSD worse, I’d strap him to a fucking chair and make him talk to a counsellor until his voice was gone.  I know he hasn’t been sleeping, the nightmares…” he trailed off when Matt gave him an odd look.

  “It’s not the PTSD, Keith,” Matt said.

  “Then what is it?” Keith rounded on Matt, frustration rising. 

  With a put upon sigh, Matt pushed off the wall, “I can’t tell you.  I promised him I wouldn’t.”

  Keith slumped again, “I hate this.”

  “How’s your new boyfriend?”

  Keith’s head snapped up, “what?”  Where the fuck did that come from?

  Matt raised a brow at him, “heard you were seeing someone.”

  “Ugh,” he grumbled, “no, there’s no-one.”

  “Appears I have been misinformed,” Matt smirked and strolled away leaving Keith confused and with less answers than he had before.

 


	6. Chapter 6

 

  Keith tried cornering Matt again with limited success and even more cryptic comments than before.

  He attempted to cajole Hunk into letting him leave a note in the boxes that Matt delivered to Shiro, only to be shot down.

  “No, nope, not letting you do that, man.  Matt said you’d try something like this, just let it be, yeah, don’t put me in the middle.”

  He tried to glare at Hunk, but the Paladin had shrugged and told him that he knew Keith better than that and it wouldn’t work on him anymore.

  Damn Hunk for being right.

  Damn himself for being a soft touch where Hunk was concerned.

  Keith then cornered Pidge and tried to talk her into bribing Matt somehow.

  That had gone about as well as he expected.

  His shin still sported a lovely bruise from that encounter.  Bloody Pidge.  He’d left her, grumbling under his breath as he heard her laughter following him down the hall. 

  Allura pretended to misunderstand his intentions when he pleaded with her for her intervention.  He knew she had understood perfectly well what he was asking, and she knew he knew, but it was to no avail.

  Iverson was a lost cause and he didn’t even bother.

  That left Lance, not that he had much hope that Lance could even do anything, but at least he kind of sympathised with how Keith felt, so he trudged down to where the Red Paladin had his quarters, trying to not let his eyes drift to the door of Shiro’s rooms.

  He stopped outside Lance’s door, wondering what had possessed him.  Lance would tease him, annoy the shit out of him most likely.  This was his dumbest idea ever.

  The swoosh of the door opening startled him, Lance almost squealing at the sight of a very embarrassed Keith on the other side.

  “What the fuck, man?”

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to freak you out,” Keith muttered, scratching the back of his head.

  “Well, what were you doing?” Lance asked, leaning against the door frame, trying to act casual after his little display.

  “I, ahh, well, I was wanting to…talk.”

  It came out sounding more like a question than a statement.  He was so very bad at this.

  Lance’s eyes narrowed, “I can’t help you contact Shiro.”

  Well, fuck.

  So much for that, not that he’d had much hope that Lance could do anything anyway.

  Time to switch tracks.  And put himself on the line.

  “I…I don’t know what to do,” he said mournfully.  “I’ve fucked it up so badly.”

  “Keith, I told you before, talk to him and what did you do?  You went and ignored him and then when you were finally speaking again and things were getting back to normal, you blindsided him.”

  “What, how?”

  “My man, you really are a disaster!” Lance grumbled, shaking his head and shepherding Keith into his rooms.  “He thought you were straight, fuck knows why, but he did and then he found out that I knew and…he thought you were close, that you would at least confide in him, seeing as he’s, you know, the resident gay dude.”

  Keith frowned, “did he say that?”

  “No, he didn’t, but it was obvious how hurt he was when I said that I knew.”

  Keith sank down into a chair, feeling so deflated it was like someone had punched the air out of him.

  “I didn’t mean to _not_ tell him, I sorta thought he knew.”

  “Well, he had no clue and then he saw you with some guy, it threw him for a loop.”  Lance settled beside him.  “And then when you were such a moody bastard on the way home, he figured it was because you’d left your new boyfriend behind.”

  “Ok, that’s the second time someone has said something like that, I’m not seeing anyone, I went out with the Prince and his husband to take my mind off things.”  He sighed, “I thought maybe it was time I tried to get over it, get over him, but I…I don’t know that I can.”

  “So who was they guy that Shiro saw you with?”

  “Nyx?  He’s one of the escorts that works at Ignis’ other club.  He’s really nice, but there was nothing going on.”  Keith looked across at Lance.  “I know Shiro saw us dancing but that was it.”

  “Huh?  He seemed to think it was more than that,” Lance mused quietly.

  “Nyx hugged me…” Keith muttered, then grimaced when Lance leaned forward, staring at Keith intently.

  “Ok, spill,” Lance demanded, poking Keith in the chest.  “You only really hug Shiro, your hugs are rare, man.”

  So Keith reluctantly told Lance what had happened, how Nyx had been interested, but he wasn’t.  How he’d confessed (sort of) how he felt about Shiro, how Nyx had comforted him and then with a flush of shame, admitted that Nyx had pulled him closer to see how Shiro reacted.

  “I told him that Shiro was just protective of his friends, he wasn’t jealous,” Keith said eventually after Lance was silent for a long moment.

  Lance rolled his eyes then pulled out his communicator and tapped out a message.

  “Don’t say I never do anything for you,” Lance warned, wagging a finger in Keith’s direction.  “And no, that wasn’t to Shiro, it was to Matt.”

  “Oh,” he whispered.  “Thanks.”  He stared down at his hands for a long minute.  “I can’t lose him as my friend, Lance.”

  “You won’t, Shiro isn’t like that,” Lance assured him, hand to his shoulder, reminding him of how the Captain would do that when he was trying to make Keith comfortable.  “When he’s ready to talk, I need you to be honest with him, about everything, Keith.  Don’t cherry pick what you say.  Tell him all of it.”

  Keith shot Lance a panicked look, “but…”

  “No!  ALL OF IT!” Lance insisted.

 

  While Shiro was still away, Keith considered leaving the garrison, leaving Voltron and vanishing into the desert.  That lasted for a hot minute.  Before Voltron, Shiro had been his only friend, but after spending time with the others he considered them family.  And he still had his mother.  Krolia might not be with him all the time, but she was making an effort to visit him every couple of months or whenever their schedules allowed.  The two years on the space whale had helped solidify their bond and he didn’t want to lose that.  He didn’t want to lose his other friends either.

  It was walking into the hangar where Atlas rested that Keith realised he wasn’t alone in missing Shiro.

  The ship gave off an air of distress that very few noticed simply due to not being sensitive to these things.  But Keith had been bonded to both Red and Black, so he felt it.  Atlas missed her Captain.  She was so young, so new to sentience, so eager to learn and discover.

  Keith approached her carefully, making sure no-one spotted him.  He placed a hand to her hull, sending warm thoughts.

  “I’m so sorry, I think it’s my fault he went away, but I know he’ll be back for you, he’s so proud of you,” Keith whispered.  There was a distinct feeling of…questioning from Atlas.  She was confused.  “I did something dumb, or actually, I’ve been a dick for a while.  I love him, but I’m too scared to tell him.”  Warmth, a feeling of excitement flooded through his hand.  Enthusiastic encouragement.  He wondered how Shiro managed the bond, Atlas felt so _large_ in his mind.  He was accustomed to the feel of Black in his consciousness, resting like a sleeping cat when he wasn’t in the pilot’s seat, roaring in battle, but the loom of Atlas was so very alien and different.  He had no bond with her, so he could only imagine what Shiro felt when he communed with her.

  An inquisitive growl sounded in his mind.  Black was wondering who he was talking to.

  Keith rounded the Atlas, still trailing his hand on her hull until he reached the cargo doors.  Atlas opened them for him and he stepped inside, heading for the hold where Black and the other Lions were housed.  Black shuffled and laid his head down, opening his maw for Keith to enter.

  The moment he was inside, he felt better, Black wrapping around him, infusing him with his warmth.

  “Good kitty,” Keith murmured, running his hands over the console.

  He laughed when Black rumbled at being called kitty.

  Settling in his seat with a sigh, he tapped at the comms, bringing up a vid feed to Allura.

  “Keith, what is it?” she asked, a little distracted, in the lab from the looks of things, Sam Holt behind her.

  “I’m just taking Black out, we’re both a bit restless,” he told her.

  Allura turned away from whatever it was she was working on, frowning in concern, “are you alright, Keith?”

  He laughed, “no, not really, but taking Black out might help.”

  “Do you want some company, I am sure Blue would agree,” Allura said.

  “No, that’s ok, you look busy.”

  Allura looked down at what she’d been working on, “well, I am a little.  Actually, before you go, may I ask you something?”

  “Sure,” Keith answered.

  “It’s about Shiro’s prosthetic.  He mentioned he gets a lot of attention with the one I made him, it makes him stand out.  I think it makes him uncomfortable, so I thought to make him one that is less…battle orientated.”  She held up another prosthetic, this one more like the one Shiro had worn when he landed back on Earth the first time, though it was coloured differently, more flesh like, with less obviously metal parts.  “It’s covered with a synthetic material that mimics skin and I thought perhaps Shiro could wear it when he’s not required to use the other for battle.”  She glanced at Keith, “do you think…I don’t want to overstep, but I know the other one floating as it does un-nerves some.”

  Keith shrugged, he was the last person to know what Shiro might want, especially lately. 

  “I dunno, Allura, maybe just ask him,” he said softly.  “I know he appreciated what you did for him with the other one, at the very least he’ll appreciate the sentiment.”

  She sighed, “yes, I suppose.  He’s just been so morose lately.”

  “I think that’s my fault, Allura,” he told her.  She averted her gaze, cheeks pink.  “I know everyone has some idea what’s going on and that he left because of me, but I’m going to try and fix it, I promise.”

  “Keith, we are all worried about him, but we are worried about you as well.  It does not feel right when you are both so out of sorts.”

  Keith sniffed, biting his lip to hold back everything that wanted to spill out of him.  He gave a little shudder, “thanks, Allura.”

  He tapped at the screen, turning off the feed before Allura could undo him further.

  Gripping the controls, he straightened in his seat, feeling Black rumble in anticipation.

  “Lets’ get out of here for a bit.”

  Black shot forward out of the Atlas and then into a loping stride to take them away from the Garrison.  As they rose, Keith kept his eyes forward, purposely not looking for where Shiro might be, fixed on the skies ahead that quickly darkened as he left Earth’s atmosphere, reaching for the solitude of the stars.

  When he came back, Atlas greeted him with a feeling of warmth as Black sat on his haunches.

  He made his way through the hallways and paused when he heard someone in the training room putting the bots through their paces.  Peeking in he blinked as he realised exactly who it was.

  Shiro.

  He was back.

  Keith felt like a coward as he fled down the corridor to his rooms before Shiro saw him.

  Breathing hard through his nose, Keith scanned his room.  Grabbing a piece of paper and pen, he wrote out a short note and before he lost his nerve, was out in the hall again, crossing to Shiro’s rooms.  He input the code, and left the note on his desk.

  _Shiro,_

_I’m glad you’re back._

_I’ll understand if you don’t want to, but I think we should talk._

_Please._

_I missed you._

_Keith._


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a little longer than the others...for reasons.  
> And the smut is getting closer ;)

  Keith stared up at the ceiling of his bedroom, arms behind his head, blankets tangled around his waist.  Trying to sleep had been a bad joke, tossing and turning as he thought about Shiro’s reaction to his note, if he’d even seen it yet.  The morning after he’d left the note he’d entered the communal area for the Paladins to find Shiro talking quietly with Matt and Pidge.  His grey eyes had found Keith for a moment, a sharp nod of his head and then he returned his attention to his conversation.

  Keith almost walked right back out, but instead straightened his spine and sat beside Lance who smiled at him softly in understanding.  He shook his head when Lance opened his mouth, grateful when his friend took the hint and snapped his mouth shut again.

  The day had been filled with meeting after meeting, countless staff waylaying Shiro with questions, so Keith had excused himself after about the tenth aborted attempt to approach him.

  Untangling himself from his blankets, he swept them aside and swung his legs over the edge of the bed.  He was too keyed up to sleep.

  Grabbing a pair of sweatpants, he pulled them on and shrugged on a t-shirt and then padded barefoot to the training deck.

  Again it was occupied.

  This time he didn’t leave.

  Shiro swept around the gladiator bot in front of him, a bo staff balanced in his hands.

  He was wearing the new prosthetic that Allura had made for him.  It looked good, Allura had made it to match his real arm, even down to the swell of a bicep.  He could see thin bands of metal where it joined his shoulder and another at the elbow and wrist, but otherwise it was the same.

  Leaning against the wall, Keith let himself drink in the sight of Shiro moving so gracefully, thoroughly deadly in his movements as he destroyed bot after bot.  He knew Shiro had registered his presence, a slight flick of his eyes in Keith’s direction betraying him, but Keith didn’t move when Shiro merely continued in the lethal dance in the middle of the room.  He’d been at it for a while if Keith was any judge, sweat turning the white of his tank top translucent, outlining his form underneath.

  Keith shoved down the arousal the sight presented, going over what he wanted to say.  But the words kept tumbling out of his head as he watched.

  God, he was so fucking beautiful it made his heart ache.

  Skin glistening, silver hair sticking to his forehead that he swept back out of his eyes every so often, cheeks pink from the exertion, grey eyes narrowed as he assessed every move the bots made, lips pursed.

  “End training sequence,” Shiro called out, the bot slumping forward.  He glanced at Keith, then away.  “Hey.”

  Keith pushed off the wall and approached him slowly, feeling shy and uncertain.  “Hey.”  He gestured to the new prosthetic, “testing it out.”

  Shiro smiled at him, soft and gentle.  Keith’s heart actually felt like it stopped.

  “Yeah, Allura gave it to me earlier,” he said, flexing the hand.  Keith heard the soft whirring it made as it moved as he got closer.  Now that he was closer, he allowed himself a better look at it and could see the outline of a compartment, no doubt housing a small Balmera crystal to operate it.

  He stopped when he was still a few paces away, crossing his arms over his chest to stop himself from hugging the man in front of him.

  “Do you like it?” Keith asked tentatively.

  Shiro grinned then, his whole face lighting up, “yeah, I do.  And it’ll be nice to wear shirts with two sleeves again.”

  Keith barked out a laugh and ducked his head, this man would be the death of him.  “Fuck, Shiro.”

  Shiro chuckled, running a hand through his hair.  Then he bit his lip, a new flush painting his cheeks.

  “Shiro.”

  “Keith.”

  They both laughed again.

  “You first,” Shiro said, stepping closer.

  Keith looked up at him, “I…fuck, I had this whole speech planned, what I would say and…I’m so sorry for how I’ve been lately, I’m sorry I haven’t wanted to talk to you.”  He bit his lip, “I’m sorry I didn’t properly tell you I’m gay, I honestly thought you knew and I’m sorry I avoided you.  I’ve been a total asshole.”

  “Hey, it’s ok, Keith,” Shiro said softly, planting his hand, the new one, on Keith’s shoulder and squeezing lightly.  “I should apologise too.  I jumped to conclusions and then I took it out on you.  I’ve been reliably informed by Matt that I am an idiot.”

  “You’re not, I am,” Keith insisted.

  Shiro shook his head ruefully, “ok, so we’re both idiots.”  With gentle pressure to Keith’s shoulder he guided them to the wall where they both sat down on the floor side by side.  “I want to talk about the…the cloning facility.  Is that ok?”

  Keith sucked in a deep breath, “yeah, I guess we should.”

  Shiro nodded.  “I have his memories, I told you that.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Whatever Haggar had planned for him there it was because she knew we were close.”

  Keith looked up sharply, “what?”

  “She instructed him to…to use our bond to bring you down.”  Shiro hung his head.  “He…he felt how I felt, how I feel and he fought it as much as he could, he didn’t want to...  He had these really bad headaches all the time and they only got worse the longer he was with you all.  The others probably told you that he, I was acting strangely while you were with the blades.”

  “Yeah, they did.”  He shuffled a little closer so that he could feel the heat radiating off Shiro, not touching, but enough to feel him and it grounded him.  “I should have known something wasn’t right.”

  “He was saying all the right things, Keith.  Things I might have said myself,” Shiro said, leaning against Keith’s shoulder.  “But when…when she took him over,” he gulped and shivered.  “I never would say those things to you, you’re the strongest, bravest person I know.  You’re worthwhile, worthy, a great leader.”  He glanced at Keith quickly, then away.  “I’m sure Krolia has told you that you mean the world to her, I can see it when she looks at you.”

  “I know, she only left to keep me safe,” Keith whispered as he pressed against Shiro, staring steadfastly at the floor.  “I know it wasn’t you saying those things, that you would never say that stuff to me, it’s not who you are.  And I don’t blame you in any way for anything that happened.”

  “I know you don’t,” Shiro said with a sad smile.  “I know they aren’t my memories, but they feel so real.”

  Keith felt the weight of Shiro’s eyes on him.  He turned his head to look at the man beside him.  Shiro reached up and stroked the scar on his cheek, his touch butterfly light against his skin.  Keith brought his hand up and covered Shiro’s.

  “You didn’t do this, I knew it wasn’t really you, that something was wrong.  I just wanted to reach the real you.”

  Shiro kept his eyes locked with Keith’s, his grey eyes searching, “you did.  What you said…when you said…it…it broke through to him.  To me.”

  “He told me to let go,” Keith whispered, unable to look away, hand still covering Shiro’s over his cheek.  He could feel the flush building as he thought about what he’d said to the clone.  “You remember what I said.”

  This was the one thing Keith had been stressing over for so long.

  “I do,” Shiro answered quietly.  Keith let out the breath he’d been holding, breaking eye contact.  “Look at me Keith,” Shiro demanded softly.  He grimaced, but looked up again.  Shiro’s eyes were so soft, earnest.  “I need to know if you meant it.”

  “W…which part?”  Keith’s heart pounded in his chest.  He had to be honest, he owed Shiro that much, but he was dreading it.

  “You called me your brother,” Shiro murmured.  “You said you loved me.  Is…was…”  He broke off, looking uncertain.

  Keith closed his eyes for a moment, feeling Shiro’s hand, cherishing it, knowing what he was about to say would change things.  He blinked up at Shiro, steeling himself.  “I…you’re family to me, Shiro, but you’re not my brother, I don’t feel that way about you.  I never have.  At least, not for a long time.”

  Shiro shifted closer, “and…the other thing you said?”

  “Ok, so…please don’t hate me or pity me or…whatever.  I never intended to tell you, because I really value our friendship and I don’t want to lose it.  You’ve been…you steadied me, taught me everything I know.  I wouldn’t be who I am without you there to guide me and I’m sure that most people would think that I’m just…that I was a dumb kid, but…” he broke off at the soft smile on Shiro’s face.

  “What are you trying to say, Keith?”

    “I meant it.  Like not…I love you.  Not like a friend, I mean I do in that way, but I love you as in I __love__  you.  I have for a long time and I know that you…”

  “Keith,” Shiro smiled again, brighter, eyes shining.  “Shut up for a second.”

  “Ok?”  

  This was not the reaction he was expecting.

  Shiro shuffled around so that he was in front of Keith, their faces so close he could feel Shiro’s breath on his face.  Grey eyes darted down from his own to his lips and Keith’s eyes went wide.  His mouth dropped open in shock.  Was he misreading that look?  God he hoped not, that would be like a dream come true.

  “My turn to confess something,” Shiro said with a bashful grin.  “I’ve been beating myself up about this for ages because I thought it wasn’t possible.  And then…when I saw you with that guy in that bar, I…I was insanely jealous, I mean, I find out you’re gay at the same moment I think you’re with someone else and…I thought…”  He sucked in a breath.  “I thought for years that you were straight, that I had no chance, and I was being…but seeing you like that…It freaked me out.  I thought that I’d lost my chance, and I was so angry at myself…I took it out on you.”  Another deep breath.  “I’m so sorry, Keith.  I was a coward.”

  “Shiro?”

  “I’m rambling, aren’t I?” Shiro chuckled, cheeks pink.  Keith nodded, hope fluttering up through his chest.  “I’m really, really bad at this.”  He leaned close suddenly, lips to Keith’s ear, “I love you too.”

  “Oh,” was the only thing Keith could think to say.  Shiro pulled back, dopey grin on his face.

  “Oh?  That’s…that’s all you’re going to say?”

  Amusement twinkled in Shiro’s eyes as he stared at Keith.

  “Yeah, pretty much, I mean what else am I meant to say when the man I have been lusting after and admiring for years tells me he loves me?   _ _You__  love me?  Really?  Golden Boy of the Garrison, God amongst men, former Paladin, Captain of the Atlas, general badass, saviour of the universe, my best friend…loves me?”

  “Yep,” Shiro snickered.

  “Ok, so I must be dreamin’ then,” Keith muttered.  “Right?”

  “Nope, not dreaming, Keith,” Shiro grinned again, a grin that Keith could get very used to and a little lost in which he must have done because when he finally blinked again Shiro was looking at him, now concerned.

  “Ahh,” Keith mumbled, flushing.

  “Did I break you?” Shiro said, leaning close again, rubbing his nose over Keith’s.

  Keith swallowed nervously, nodding.  “Yeah, a bit.”  He licked his lips, Shiro flicking his eyes down to watch.  When he looked up again, his gaze was burning, hungry.

  “Can I…please?”

  Keith groaned, Shiro’s eyes going dark at the sound, his breath hitching.  He surged forward, hands cupping Shiro’s neck, pressing his mouth to Shiro’s messily and off centre, bumping noses.  Shiro gasped, dragging Keith forward into his lap, adjusting the angle so their lips slotted together.

  The first kiss only lasts a few seconds, almost chaste, but when Shiro pulls back and smiled at him, Keith’s brain short circuits.   _ _That__ look is one of the best things he’s ever seen, Shiro’s bare ass notwithstanding, because well, Shiro’s __ass__.  The haunted, hunted look in Shiro’s eyes is gone, replaced with something so happy that Keith’s heart squeezes in his chest.

  He breathed out slowly.  “Wow.”

  Shiro giggled, and god damnit if that isn’t the best sound ever.

  They just stare at each other stupidly before collapsing together in a fit of giggles.  Distantly Keith thinks no-one would believe it’s him giggling.  

  Catching their breath, Shiro goes back to staring, “galaxies,” he blurted after a moment.

  “Huh?”

  “Your eyes,” Shiro said with that same goofy smile.  “They’re like galaxies.”

  Ok, Keith is dead, officially dead, “Shiro,” he groaned, thumping his head onto his shoulder.

  “What?  They are.”  He ran his hands up and down Keith’s back, “so fucking pretty.”

  “Says the man on all the recruitment posters,” Keith mumbled into Shiro’s neck earning him another of those ridiculous giggles.  He pulled back, “do you even know how gorgeous you are?”

  “Keith,” Shiro muttered, ducking his head to hide the blush blooming on his cheeks.

  “You really don’t have a clue do you?  Oh my god, you smile and people __melt__ , Shiro, me included.”  He placed a hand over Shiro’s chest, right above his heart, feeling the way it was racing.  “It’s this though, once they get past the godliness, that’s what draws everyone in.”

  Shiro groaned, gripping Keith’s hips, mouth seeking and finding, his lips moving against Keith’s urgently.  He fell into it, parting his lips when Shiro licked at them, dizzy with the force of the kiss.  He felt Shiro’s rumble of pleasure right in his bones, making his toes curl against the cool floor of the training room.  Shiro tilted his head, deepening it, possessing him, claiming him.  Keith decided he wanted that more than anything.  To be Shiro’s completely, utterly, to feel he belonged to him and only him.  And yet, in a way, he felt he always had been, regardless of…

  Adam.

  Shiro sensed something was off, pulling away, “Keith?”

  “Ahh, I…um…shit,” he muttered.  Blinking at Shiro, “are you sure about this, I mean…when we got back you found out about…Adam.”

  “Oh Keith,” Shiro whispered.  “I am sure.  I promise.  Adam and I were over a long time ago.  If he’d…lived, then I would have wanted to talk to him, but I never wanted to __be__  with him again.  I miss him, yes, but…he’s gone, I have accepted that.”  He cupped Keith’s face.  “I am very sure about this.”

  Keith nodded, accepting what Shiro said.  “Ok.”

  “Aisuru,” Shiro whispered, placing a kiss to the tip of Keith’s nose.  “Aishiteru.”

  He didn’t know what Shiro just said, his grasp of Japanese admittedly limited, but it sounded so fond, loving that he felt warm all over.  He smiled at Shiro, “what did you say?”

  Shiro looked at him from under his thick lashes, a little bashful, “beloved, I love you.”

  “Oh my god,” Keith groaned.  He poked Shiro in his chest, “you are so…how am I so lucky.”  He wrapped his arms around Shiro’s back.  “You’re the biggest sap ever and I love it.  I love you too.”

  They fell into another kiss, soft and sweet, lips moving languidly, unhurried, taking joy in the simple act of kissing each other.  Wrapped up in each other, Keith completely forgot where they were, forgot everything over the past months, forgot everything except Shiro and the way his lips felt, the way his thighs cradled him, his arms solid around his waist.

  “Keith,” Shiro murmured, nuzzling Keith’s cheek with his own.

  “Takashi,” he responded in a whisper, calling Shiro by his first name for the first time, testing out the feel of it on his tongue.  Shiro’s breath hitched and Keith leaned back to look at him properly.  “Is that ok?”

  “More than ok,” Shiro replied softly.  “I just wasn’t prepared for how good that sounded coming from you.”

  “Takashi,” he said again, watching Shiro’s eyes go dark.

  “God,” Shiro gasped.  “Ok, you are definitely only allowed to use that in private.”

  Keith chuckled, “alright, I can live with that.”

  They both startled when Kosmo popped into existence beside them, tongue lolling as he almost seemed to grin at them.  Keith heard a rumbling purr from Black and the lights dimmed in the training room.

  Shiro shook his head, “Atlas is pleased.”  He paused for a moment with a tilt of his head, listening.  His blush deepened.  “Really pleased.”

  “So is Black,” Keith laughed.

  Shiro lifted Keith up off his lap and stood, holding his hand out, “come on, I think we should take this somewhere else.”  Keith took his hand.  “Would you…I mean, ahh, if you want…I’d love it if you would stay with me, in my rooms.”

  Keith giggled at the flush on Shiro’s cheeks, “yeah, that would be great.”

 


	8. Chapter 8

  Fucking butterflies.

  It felt like thousands of them, all concentrated in his stomach, dancing around madly in concert with the beating of his heart.

  His palm was sweaty and he was sure Shiro had noticed if the purse of his lips to hold back his grin was any indication.  But he said nothing as he led Keith toward his quarters, past Keith’s own door as Kosmo flitted in and out of existence beside them or in front of them, almost tripping the pair over several times in his over exuberant excitement.

  Before they even reached Shiro’s door it swooshed open, most likely Atlas taking a hand in the proceedings.  Since they had left the training deck, Atlas had been vibrating, a quiet hum that Keith could feel through his bare feet.

  He didn’t even know what he expected, let alone what Shiro expected when he said he wanted Keith to stay with him.  He didn’t __think__  they would be…intimate.  Keith wasn’t even sure he was ready for that, as much as he wanted Shiro, desperately.  Considering what he knew of the Captain, he couldn’t see Shiro jumping into anything without discussing it properly first.  He was too considerate for that.

  Fuck, Keith didn’t even know what Shiro __liked__.  He didn’t want to assume anything, regardless of his own fantasies.

  Shiro herded him in through the open door, wrapping him in an embrace the moment it closed behind them.

  “I…ah, should have a shower,” Shiro muttered into Keith’s hair.  

  Keith didn’t care that Shiro was sweaty from his sparring session with the bots, but he figured the Captain probably would be less uncomfortable after a shower.  

  And it would give Keith a few minutes to settle the tumultuous riot of butterflies in his stomach.  He released Shiro with a shy smile and sat himself down in the chair before Shiro’s desk, looking about at the regimented stillness of Shiro’s quarters.  Everything had a place, very little in the way of decoration, but then he doubted Shiro had managed to go out and simply buy himself frivolous items.  There were a few frames with pictures of the Voltron Paladins and Shiro together.  That made Keith grin.

  Taped to one wall was a drawing that had obviously been done by a child, a crayon rendering of Atlas with a little Shiro waving in the corner.  It was so cute.  And so like Shiro to proudly display it.  Affection for this man welled up inside him, marveling that he was still able to be like this despite everything that had happened to him.  He was so optimistic, even in the face of insurmountable odds.  Totally Shiro.  

  The whoosh of a door and warmth of steam filled air behind him heralded Shiro’s return, and the riot of butterflies in his stomach.

  “Uh, hey,” Keith said, then mentally kicked himself for being just __so__  intelligent.  Then he saw what Shiro was wearing, or rather the lack of and his mind wandered to all the places that it was wont to do when he saw Shiro in similar states of undress.  Or dressed even.  Shiro ran his real hand up and over the back of his neck, cheeks slowly going pink, the fingers of his prosthetic playing with the waist band of his soft cotton pajama pants riding low on his hips.

  That was all he had on.

  Keith became oddly fixated on Shiro’s bare feet.  Damn the man for being perfect all over.  How the fuck can someone’s feet be pretty?  Why had he never noticed them before?

  The feet moved closer, startling him when they stopped in front of him.  A finger tilted his face up, soft grey eyes meeting his, a hesitant smile on Shiro’s lips.

  “You ok?”

  “Yeah,” Keith whispered.

  “And is this ok?” Shiro asked, pulling Keith in so they were pressed together, knee to chest.

  “Mmm, yeah, very ok.”

  Hands rested just above Keith’s ass, one more solid than the other, fingers on both twitching as if they wanted to move lower and grip.  Keith’s own hands came up of their own volition, cradling Shiro’s face with his palms.  Shiro made a pleased hum, lips quirking into a smile, thick white brows raised in something like surprise at Keith’s action.

  He had no clue what he was doing, only that he wanted to __touch__  and be touched, feel Shiro against him, feel the solid weight of him, feel his lips…

  Pulling Shiro’s face down to his upturned one, it felt natural to press their lips together, soft, gentle, parting them just enough so he can mouth at Shiro, press his nose against his cheek.  Again, it’s Shiro that adjusts the angle, his own lips parting so they can continue, the tips of two tongue meeting in the space between, flicking and curling.

  It didn’t take long for the kiss to turn decidedly filthy, Shiro’s hands gravitating down to Keith’s ass, squeezing as Keith tried not to melt into a puddle on the floor.  Distantly through the blood rushing through his ears he could make out the sound of Shiro, the deep rumble of his moans vibrating through Keith’s chest, needy and desperate.

  Keith pushed against Shiro’s chest, blinking up at him, wide-eyed, “woah.”

  Shiro ducked his head, sneaking his hands back up out of ass territory, “I…ahh…sorry.”

  Keith laughed at Shiro, “no, it’s really ok.”  He peered up at Shiro through hair and lashes, “just kinda overwhelmed here, that’s all.  Never thought I’d know what it felt like to kiss you.”

  “Oh…”  Shiro bit his lip, looking sheepish and so much younger than usual with his pink cheeks.  “I got a bit carried away,” he said, rubbing at the short hair at the back of his head.  “It’s been a really long time since I…and you…ugh…I’m just so bad at this stuff.”

  Keith laughed, “it doesn’t seem that way to me, you were kissing me silly, my brain was kinda blank there.”  He pulled Shiro closer again, grunting in surprise when he felt exactly what kissing him had done to Shiro.  With a devilish smile he rolled his hips, grinding against him.

  Shiro groaned, dipping his head again to seek out Keith’s mouth.

  “Will you sleep with me…just sleep…is that ok?”

  Keith bent his head and leaned against Shiro, “yeah, I’d like that.”  He paused, giving Shiro a coy glance, lowering his voice an octave or two, “Takashi.”

  Shiro groaned again, pushing Keith towards the bedroom, “you’re teasing me with that now, aren’t you?”

  Keith shot him a cheeky grin over his shoulder, “yep.”

 

  Of course it would be Lance, it was __always__  Lance that caught him doing things.  The shit eating grin was there, his arms crossed over his chest as he gave Keith a once over.

  “Sooooo,” Lance drawled, smirking at Keith broadly.

  “What?” Keith feigned nonchalance, badly.

  Lance rolled his eyes, “you two ‘talked’, I take it,” fingers describing air quotes, leaving no doubt as to what he meant.

  Keith grabbed him by the arm and dragged him away from Shiro’s door, “not here.”

  “Oho!  So there is something to tell,” Lance crowed as Keith shoved him into his own quarters and slapped the panel to close and lock the door.

  “Shhh,” Keith warned.  He paced back and forth, “yes, I talked to him…we talked…and I do mean talked, not whatever you were thinking.”

  Lance tilted his head, “really talked, I mean about the stuff, the big stuff?”

  Keith lowered himself into his desk chair, “yeah.  All of it.”

  Lance sucked in a lung full of air, shaking his head in disbelief.  “All of it?”

  Keith nodded.

  “And?”

  “And what?” Keith muttered.  He knew full well what Lance was asking, but figured he would have just a little fun getting back at his friend.

  “Argh, Mullet, you are the worst, just tell me.”

  Keith snickered.  “He kissed me,” he whispered.

  Lance’s eyes almost bugged out of his head, “he __what__?”  He bounced over to Keith, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him, “I need details.”

  Keith’s teeth rattled in his head from the manhandling.  He shoved Lance back annoyed.  “We talked, I told him I meant what I said at the cloning facility, he said he feels the same.  He kissed me, or I kissed him, bit fuzzy on that bit.”

  Lance’s mouth dropped open.  Then he blinked, gathering his thoughts, “right, should have known I’d get the Keith version.  So, you were leaving his rooms…like that,” he said, hand waving in Keith’s direction.  “You stayed with him…”

  “I did, we just slept, Lance, nothing else,” Keith put in.  He didn’t tell the Paladin about the insane amount of kissing, or the fact that he’d woken up to Shiro’s erection poking him in the thigh.  Or how they spent hours whispering in the dim light of Shiro’s bedroom about anything and everything.  Or how both of them eventually slept soundly, no nightmares, arms wrapped around each other.  

  “So you two are…together now?”

  Keith winced, “ahh, I guess so.”  They hadn’t exactly discussed that part, or rather, they bypassed it altogether in favour of kissing.  He thought they would probably get to it eventually.  Or maybe they’d just meander along considering how long they’d both kept quiet on the subject.  No, that wouldn’t do.  Now that they’d got to this point Keith didn’t want anything to mar it.  He wanted things to be clear and open between them.  

  No more hiding.

  Lance let out a shriek as Keith shot past him, slapping at the panel beside the door and racing across to Shiro’s room.

  The Captain of the Atlas startled at his desk, dropping his datapad with a clunk.

  “Keith?”

  Keith halted right alongside Shiro, dropping to his knees.

  “What are we?” he blurted.

  Shiro frowned, “umm.”

  “We never got that sorted, I mean…well…we kind of got sidetracked.”

  Shiro flushed, “sorry.”

  “No, nope, not letting you do that,” Keith grumbled.  “I just…what are we, Takashi?”

  “Oh,” Shiro mumbled.  “Boyfriends,” he said hopefully, eyes puppy-like.

  Keith snorted, “god, you are such a dork.”  He surged up and planted a kiss to Shiro’s cheek, “boyfriend.”

  Before he could sit back, Shiro grabbed him, squeezing Keith’s waist.  “I love you, baby.”

  Keith spluttered.   _ _Baby__?  He whined as he thudded his head on Shiro’s shoulder.  This ridiculous dork was going to kill him.  “I love you too.”

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

 

  Kosmo rolled onto his back, all four feet waving in the air, tongue lolling out of his open maw, wriggling in delight as Shiro scratched his belly.

  Keith rolled his eyes, “you’re spoiling him,” he observed dryly.

  Shiro smiled up at Keith, looking a touch guilty, “but he likes it.”

  Keith snorted, “yeah, and he’s never gonna leave us in peace if you keep giving him belly rubs all the time.  He’s got you wrapped around his paw.”

  Shiro pouted, making Keith laugh, “sorry Kosmo, Keith says no more scratches.”  Keith watched him lean down and whisper in the wolf’s ear.  He had the distinct impression Shiro was promising he’d rub Kosmo’s belly the moment Keith was out of sight.  It was virtually confirmed when Kosmo grinned at him.

  Watching Shiro so happy, carefree, Keith realised he himself had unclenched.  The anxiety, pain, anger that he carried around daily were forgotten.  No, not forgotten, but more like they had just dissipated.  For the first time in such a long time, he felt free of grief.  Shiro was a balm.

  Keith let his eyes rove over Shiro, still crouched on the floor, silver hair almost glowing in the light of the room, grey eyes bright with mirth as Kosmo attempts to get him to scratch his belly again with a nudge of his nose against Shiro’s prosthetic, the new one.  Shiro chuckled, deep and unbridled.

  “You’re gorgeous,” Keith blurted, flushing crimson caught off guard at the way his mouth just vomited his thought without a filter.  Not that it isn’t true, it’s really true, but he just hadn’t meant to say it like that.  So smooth.

  Shiro blinked, swallowing nervously, hand coming up to scratch at the back of his neck, “ahh, thanks?”

  Keith face palmed, shaking his head, “god, I’m fucking useless at this stuff.”

  Shiro’s quizzical look is so cute Keith thought he might just melt into the floor, a Keith shaped puddle.

  “Useless at what?”

  Damn, Shiro looks like a wide eyed puppy.  A huge, muscle-bound puppy.

  “Flirting,” Keith muttered.

  “Oh,” Shiro huffed with a little laugh.  “I wouldn’t worry about it,” he averted his silvery eyes, biting his lip.  “I am really bad at it, I mean seriously bad.  Adam said he’d been flirting with me for weeks before he just asked me out, otherwise, well, I had no clue and we’d never have got together.  Said when I did try to flirt it was the most painful thing he’d ever witnessed.”  He laughed again, a depreciating little sound, “I mean, I can see when other people are flirting, but if it’s directed at me, I just think they’re being polite.”

  Keith snorted at that, “yeah, I saw that the night I dragged you out of the bar, you were drunk off your ass ‘coz you were too nice to notice you were being plied with drinks.”  He skirted the subject of Adam, pleased Shiro could talk about him comfortably with him, but not wanting to bring the man into conversation himself.

  “Mmhm,” Shiro agreed with a hum.  He shot Keith a shy glance.  “I remember desperately wanting you in bed with me.”

  “You were pretty hard to say no to,” Keith admitted, settling himself on his ass beside Shiro.  

  Shiro leaned closer, “I was?”  There was a glint in his eyes, Keith trying to fathom what it was when Shiro shuffled towards Keith, reaching out to tuck a lock of his hair behind his ear.  His smile was soft, gentle.  Kosmo stole Keith’s attention for a split second as he zapped himself off to somewhere.  When his eyes flicked back, Shiro was up on his knees, inching closer.

  Oh.   _ _OH.__

That’s what that look meant.

  Keith closed the scant distance between them, shifting up on his own knees, hands curled over Shiro’s shoulders to steady himself as their lips met.

  Despite the awkward position, Keith felt like he was in heaven, Shiro’s chest against his, arms around him securely, mouth and tongue plundering his own.  Shiro’s hands moved down his back, wavering a moment before he cupped his palms over Keith’s ass.  He whined into Shiro’s mouth, delving his tongue further, desperate for more of Shiro in every way possible.

  Shiro leaned back, panting and Keith followed him, shoving him back so hard that the Captain of the Atlas let out a ‘oof’ as his back hit the floor, Keith straddling his hips and grinning down at him like a predatory cat.

  Keith started rolling his hips, chasing the friction he needed, peppering kisses to Shiro’s jaw.

  “Ahh, you know there’s a bed just over there?” Shiro murmured around a kiss planted squarely on his lips.

  Keith sat back, still grinding down on Shiro, “well, Takashi, as you weren’t taking me there, I thought I’d take control of the situation.”

  “Spitfire,” was hissed at him in response.  Then Keith’s world tipped, Shiro flipping them over before he lifted him off the floor.  Keith bounced as he hit the bed, punching a laugh out of him as Shiro then loomed over him, attempting and failing, to look stern.

  Shiro planted a knee between Keith’s legs, nudging them apart, positioning himself over Keith and rolling his hips down in a move that stole Keith’s breath form his lungs.  The heated look his boyfriend gave him could hardly be misinterpreted.

  But Shiro being Shiro, he asked anyway.

  “You want this?”

  “Fuck yes!  Please!”  He tugged at Shiro’s shirt, wanting it out of the way.  He had some long put off worshipping to do.  The speed with which Shiro obliged was dizzying, the shirt ripped off over his head, deposited on the floor and Keith immediately reached up to get his hands on the wet dream of a man above him.  He swore softly as he mapped out the dips and valleys of Shiro’s muscles, palms flat against his stupidly firm pectorals.

  He wasn’t given long to admire, his own t-shirt wrestled off, Shiro pressing him into the mattress, bare chests rubbing together as they both writhed.  Keith wrapped his arms around him, caressing the planes of his back, groaning at the play of muscles under the skin as Shiro moved.

  He dragged his nails down Shiro’s back, earning him a deep growl.

  “God Baby,” Shiro whispered next to Keith’s ear.  Keith worked on instinct, hands slipping further down to grip hold of the globes of Shiro’s ass.  They both moaned in unison.  Keith was fast losing his mind, his body reacting all on its own.  He wrapped his legs around Shiro’s waist and flipped them over.

  “Baby, we’re not sparring,” Shiro whispered.

  Keith might have agreed, except they kind of were.

  He just wanted Shiro to take him, feel him inside, in every way he could.

  “Pants off,” He hissed, snaking his hand down between them.  He felt the downy hair just below Shiro’s navel.  Treasure trail.  In the truest sense.

  “Keith,” Shiro whined as Keith wrangled with the button and zipper of his Garrison issued pants, dragging them off Shiro’s hips, the shuffled back to wriggle them off his thick thighs.  He bit back his groan as more and more of his boyfriend came into view.  Particularly, the large bulge pushing at the front of his boxer briefs.  He could make out the outline of Shiro’s cock, licking his lips.  He wanted to get his mouth around it.

  Tossing the pants aside, he tucked his fingers in the waistband of Shiro’s underwear, mildly offended that they were in the way.  When Shiro’s cock bobbed free, Keith froze.

  He’d seen it before, admittedly flacid at he time, but this was…fuck.

  He glanced up, Shiro watching him intently, wondering what Keith was thinking.

  “Can I?  I really want to blow you.”

  Shiro blinked, “ahh, yeah.”

  Taking it in hand, Keith traced over the veins, feeling the velvety length and girth of it.

  “Fuck,” he whispered, a little awed and more than a touch nervous about what he was about to try and do.  How was __that__  going to fit in his mouth, let alone his ass.  Dipping his head down, he extended his tongue and flicked it out to deliver a kittenish lick to the tip.

  Shiro bucked up, “shit.”  A bead of pre-come dribbled from the head and Keith lapped at it, a little bitter.  Shiro thudded his head back on the pillow, exhaling sharply as Keith swirled his tongue around the head, then pressed his tongue up the length, licking from root to tip.  “Oh shit.”

  The cock in his fist twitched as Keith opened his mouth wide and took the head in, suctioning around it.  He pulled off with a slick pop as Shiro tangled his hand in Keith’s hair.

  “Ok?”

  Shiro laughed brokenly, “ok?  Fuck, more than ok, Baby.”

  That was a go ahead if ever he heard one.

  “You’re fucking huge,” he murmured, still trying to wrangle with the fact that his hand barely circled Shiro’s length.  He look up to see Shiro hiding his face.

  “Sorry.”

  Keith’s brain short-circuited.  Did Shiro just apologise for the size of his dick?

  “Huh?”

  Shiro whined pathetically, still hiding his pace in the pillow, “you don’t have to…we could do…other things.”

  Keith laughed, “ahh, no, not that I don’t want to try whatever you have in mind, but I’m kinda determined here.”  He gave a slow, languid tug to Shiro’s cock.  “I really wanna feel this in my ass.”

  The sound Shiro made was suspiciously like a tea kettle boiling.  “Keith,” he admonished, trying to sound stern and coming off desperate.

  He tilted his head, eyes flicking between the cock in his fist and the crimson of Shiro’s cheeks, “gonna need a bit of help getting ready for this.”

  Shiro rolled his head back, blinking.  Then his gaze turned predatory.

  “I may have an idea.”  He shuffled out from under Keith and pushed him down onto his hands and knees, “c’mon, show me that cute little ass.”

  Wriggling out of his jeans and underwear left him exposed, waving his ass at Shiro enticingly, wondering what exactly he had planned.  He turned his head to peer over his shoulder, Shiro with his eyes fixed firmly on Keith’s ass.

  “Are you gonna stare at it all day…”

  The rest of his snarky comment was lost as Shiro dipped his head and Keith felt something warm and wet and very mobile coasting over his rim.  One flesh and one prosthetic hand held his cheeks open as Shiro pressed his face in, lapping and laving at the puckered ring.  Keith slumped down onto his elbows, inadvertently giving Shiro better access, which he used to good effect, the tip of his tongue breaching the tight rim of his ass.  Keith squeaked, squirming under Shiro’s ministrations.

  “Mmm.”  Shiro’s pleased hum vibrated through him making his neglected cock leak onto the bed covers.  In the state he found himself, Keith simply couldn’t do anything about it, lost in the bliss of Shiro eating at his ass like it was a four course meal.

  Then a finger joined in and Keith was gone, no hope of survival.  Pushing back onto Shiro’s tongue and finger he felt Shiro hum again.  When he looks back over his shoulder, it’s to the sight of silver hair, molten platinum eyes peering over his backside and stealing the breath from his lungs.

  “Cabinet, in the bedhead,” Shiro whispers into Keith’s skin.

  Keith’s mind can’t process the request for a moment, until a quick nip to his ass cheek startles him enough that he wrenches open the little concealed door.  He finds a small bottle of lube.  Ahh.  Grabbing it, he extended his hand back to Shiro.

  It doesn’t take long before Shiro is scissoring him open, two fingers then three, slick and so fucking perfect it had Keith shuddering on his knees.

  He felt empty when Shiro removed his fingers, clenching around nothing, a little sigh escaping Shiro as he watched.  The slick sound of lube over skin reached his ears and Keith bit his lip in anticipation.

  He tried not to flinch when Shiro leaned up over him, the tip of his cock circling his stretched rim.  He whined as Shiro continued to tease, his breaths landing warm against the back of his neck.

  “Fuck, Baby, I’m gonna wreck this ass.”

  Keith let out a deep growl, rocking back to get Shiro to just put it in already.

  The moment he does, with a slow glide, Keith cried out, a mixture of pleasure and pain.  Shiro __is__  huge inside him, pushing at the limits of what he can take.  Shiro held still, trembling above him, letting him get used to the stretch, letting the burn dissipate.  Keith exhaled, resting his head on his forearms, trying to relax his ass around Shiro.

  “Fuck, Takashi,” Keith moaned, overwhelmed already.  “Move, please.”

  Shiro was right.  He’s going to be wrecked and he couldn’t be happier at the prospect, knowing he’s going to feel this for days to come.

  The push and pull of Shiro inside him, the feel of his hands holding him steady, the pervasive slap of flesh, the sound of Shiro’s grunts and moans behind him, all conspired to tip Keith over the edge far faster than he wanted, but it was beyond inevitable at this point.  He’d been wanting too long, dreaming about this moment, fantasising about how it would feel.  And the reality…fuck, it was so much more…everything that what he could possibly have thought up.

  He made a confused noise when Shiro pulled out, urging him onto his back.  Keith went, sprawling back on the pillows and spreading his thighs as far as they would go.

  “I want to watch you,” Shiro explained, lifting Keith’s legs to his shoulders and lining up again.

  The position gave Keith a view of Shiro as his face contorted in pleasure, brow furrowed, plush, swollen lips parted, lashes fluttering over his cheeks as he gripped Keith’s thighs and slid in to the hilt again.

  Keith gasped in shock, the sensation of Shiro nailing his prostate beyond explanation, only knowing he wanted more of that.

  “God, fuck, there, right there,” he babbled, begging, pleading with Shiro for more.

  “Yeah, does that feel good?”  Shiro’s voice was just as breathless as Keith’s, the slightly rasping quality of it enhanced by his harsh breaths.  Shiro increased the ferocity of his thrusts, murmuring praise all the while.  “You’re so beautiful, you feel so tight around my cock, like you’re milking me.”

  Folded in half as he was, Keith could only lift his hips a little to assist, urging Shiro on with his lilting cries.

  “Ta…Takashi, fuck,” he yowled at a particularly hard thrust.  Pawing at Shiro’s shoulders, he pulled him down, claiming Shiro’s mouth as ecstasy flooded him, the coiling in his stomach tightening.  He clenched down on Shiro, drawing a hiss from him.

  “Close, Baby?”

  Keith nodded, nails becoming claws as he raked them down Shiro’s back, the Galra in him surfacing.  The lengthening of his teeth, sharper vision.  A sob stuck in his throat, tears pricking at his eyes, threatening to overflow.  Shiro increased his pace again, swelling inside Keith’s ass.

  One hand left his thigh, snaking between them and curling around Keith’s twitching cock, swiping through the mess he was making, pumping him and driving his closer and closer, his cries changing in pitch until he was almost screaming Shiro’s name.

  His orgasm hit him like a freight train, his cries torn from his throat as Shiro followed him over the edge as Keith clenched and fluttered around him.  Shiro collapsed on top of him, panting in Keith’s ear as Keith lowered his legs from Shiro’s shoulders with a twinge.  The weight of Shiro was heavy, but comforting, grounding as he slowly came down from his high.

  He hissed as Shiro withdrew his softening length and rolled to the side, immediately curling against Keith’s side as if he couldn’t bear to be too far away, arm slung over Keith’s chest, fingers tracing languid patterns on his shoulder.

  Keith twisted his head to the side and planted a kiss to Shiro’s damp forehead, “I love you.”

  Shiro tilted his head, smiling lazily, “I love you too.”

 


End file.
